Aaaand Action!
by Ki to that Go
Summary: What happens when the cameras stop rolling? Sometimes the best action occurs off the set…This will be a KiGo oriented fanfic describing life both on and off the set of the hit Disney show, Kim Possible.
1. Chapter 1

And… Action!

What happens when the cameras stop rolling?

Sometimes the best action occurs off the set…

This is my first fanfic! It describes life both on and off the set of the hit Disney show, Kim Possible. It is inspired by a great video on youtube showing Drakken flubbing a line ("I'm improvising! I'm an artist, you know!"), only to have Shego argue that the new line is lame. Kim tries to break it up ("Guys, we've got a scene to shoot") with little success.

Disclaimers: Yadda yadda yadda

CHAPTER ONE

Shego hurled a ball of hot plasma towards Kim, who deftly jumped over it as easily as if she had been skipping rope. As Kim was in the air, she gracefully twirled her left leg in order to kick Shego in the jaw. Using the momentum gained from the force of the blow, Shego leapt towards the nearest wall and bounced right off, catching Kim neatly in the stomach. Kim doubled over as though in pain; while in this position, she rammed her head into Shego's chest. Shego, who had been caught off-guard, flew backwards, but managed to perform a quick back-flip in the air that enabled her to land on her feet.

"What the HELL was that!" Shego demanded.

"Cut!" shouted a voice in the background.

"What the hell is your problem this time?" Shego barked again, but this time her anger was not directed at Kim. Her blazing green eyes were instead focused on the man approaching the two women. He was wearing a headset and carrying several wires, and appeared very tired and very annoyed.

"Gomez, how many times to have to remind you – no profanity!" snapped David.

"She used the wrong move!" spat Sheba Gomez-Goldstein, who, unsurprisingly, preferred to be called by her nickname of Shego. "Don't blame me if Princess here keeps fouling up the choreography."

"I'm not fouling anything!" Kim Reilly retorted hotly. In true Disney fashion, the actors on "Kim Possible" all used their real first names for their characters. "If you had kicked me at the right angle, I would have been better positioned to get you where I was sup – "

"That is not the point, ladies!" David interrupted. "Shego, we've gone over the profanity rules a million times! This is a kid show, for crying out loud!"

Shego glowered. Everyone knew that she resented hearing the show being referred to as a children's show. "Oh, sure," she told David. "Physical combat and doomsday devices are just fine, but the word 'hell' will just leave the little brats traumatized for life."

"This is not the time to debate company policy," David replied crossly. "Get yourself cast in 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and you can have all the damns, hells, and physical combat you want. But not on this set."

"Maybe we should take a breather, ladies," suggested Mark in a placating tone, removing his headset. "Back in five."

"Kim, that was so cool!" shouted Ron Perlman, who was only slightly more coordinated than his on-screen counterpart. He and Andrew "Drakken" Drakinger emerged from behind mounds of debris, having decided that the scene was now safe.

"The two of you make it all look so _real,_" agreed Drakken.

Kim shrugged modestly while Shego smiled triumphantly. Kim couldn't help agreeing with Drakken. With Shego, everything was real. She took the show's combat and martial arts training seriously. Too seriously.

"So, Kim, are we on for Taco Bell tonight?" asked Ron. Ron and Kim had recently begun dating, a development that was whole-heartedly supported by the show's producers and public relations committee.

"No, I don't think I can make it, too much homework," sighed Kim. "Sorry, Ron."

"Taco Bell?" Drakken asked excitedly. "Oh, goody! They have this wonderful new quesadilla that I'm dying to try!"

"You hang out with the clown?" demanded Shego.

"Shego, just because we play enemies doesn't mean that we can't be friends off the set."

"It totally ruins the authentic feel to the show!" Shego disagreed. "You won't project the same kind of animosity if you guys start bonding!"

"Well, that explains some things," Kim muttered.

"It's called acting, Shego!" Drakken said irritably.

"Not something you ought to rely on, Dr. D.," replied Shego.

"Are you questioning my acting skills?"

"Yeah, well if you had a day job, I would tell you not to quit it."

"Gah!" shouted Drakken, pulling at his hair. "I get no respect from anyone anymore!"

"Did you ever?"

"Don't character actors get any respect in the industry anymore?"

"Shego," Kim stepped in, "are you acting like a jerk for the sake of the show's authenticity, or is this part of your real personality?"

Shego responded by lunging at Kim and tossing a green ball of plasma towards her, which Kim easily avoided.

"Okay, real personality," Kim back-flipped away from Shego, twirled, and kicked her neatly in the chest.

"You know, someone has got to take that flame-thrower thing away from her between takes," Ron said thoughtfully as the fight continued.

"The props people tried it last time," Drakken answered. "It didn't work very well."

"Hey, Mark!" David, who had been watching the actors' interaction slightly removed from the soundstage, suddenly turned to his co-director. "Look at them go! Boys, get this on tape! Come on! Roll 'em!"

"I don't know, David," Mark said uncertainly. "Shouldn't we try and stop them?"

"What for?"

"I don't know – they don't even realize we're shooting."

"You told them we'd continue shooting in five."

"I don't like the idea of shooting real fights for the show, David," Mark said uncomfortably. "It feels too exploitative, like we're taking advantage of their relationship."

"That's the biz, Mark. Come on, this routine is much better than the one they were doing before."

Mark sighed. "Sometimes you approach life with all the integrity of a game-show host."

"Why, thank you, Mark," David said proudly.

On the soundstage, Shego and Kim continued exchanging and dodging punches and kicks. Neither noticed the cameramen capturing their every move.

"You ought to keep your nose out of people's business, Kimmie," Shego said. She aimed a kick at Kim, who dodged it. "Sometimes you think you're a real superhero."

Kim jumped over Shego and aimed a punch. She missed. "Yeah, well, you seem to be the one who believes in typecasting." She lunged again.

Shego dodged. "I'll take that as a compliment."

After a few more moments of fighting, Kim said, "Shego, don't you think we're taking this a bit too far?"

"If you're tired, I can get your stunt double." Shego smiled.

Kim bristled. "The stunt double was only when I was a minor!" she shouted, kicking Shego hard in the stomach. Before Kim turned eighteen, she had only been allowed – by law – to perform moves that were approved by her parents. Her parents were very permissive and only insisted on a stunt double for about three different moves during the first two years of the show's filming. Naturally Shego never let Kim live the shame down.

"One word for you, Shego," Kim sneered. _"CGI." _

Kim gloated when Shego colored fiercely. Shego had been furious during the filming of _So the Drama _when she found out that the studio was planning on using CGI for one scene.

"Kim can't actually drive you into an electrical tower, Shego!" David had said at the time.

"So get her stunt double."

"It's not Kim's abilities that we're doubting, Shego."

"So you're questioning _my_ abilities?" This was dangerous territory.

"No, just your immortality," David had said wryly. "Really, Shego, if you got injured it would hold up production for weeks." So Kim had tossed Shego into a blue screen instead, and the editing crew digitally inserted a lighthouse in the background. Shego had fumed during that entire scene during the premier.

"And – cut!" David suddenly shouted. "Brilliant, ladies, brilliant! Well, that's all for today."

"Huh?" asked Kim. She and Shego suddenly stopped fighting when they heard David end the scene that they did not even realize was taking place. Drakken and Ron happily jumped out of their hiding spot, eagerly discussing Taco Bello.

"Hey, Stoppable!" Steve Atkins barked from offstage. Aside from playing Mr. Barkin, he also acted as Rufus' animal trainer. He was also was the only one to refer to the actors' by their characters' last names. "Nice try." With a groan, Ron reluctantly removed Rufus from his pocket and lay him down gently. The naked mole rat inched towards Steve, clearly preferring to remain with Ron.

"Bye, little buddy," Ron called out tearily. Rufus waved good-bye sadly and wiped away a tear, although no one but Ron or Kim would have seen it. "One day they'll realize that rodents are people too. After that fateful day, the cage and the trainer will be no more."

Steve glared at Ron. "I've got my eyes on you, mole rat boy."

"Okay, someone tell me what's going on," said Shego, dropping her fists in confusion.

"I think that they've been filming us fighting."

"And it was just stunning," said Joe, the nearest cameraman. "Shego, you are one hot chick when you kick some serious ass."

"I'll make sure yours is next," Shego gritted between her teeth. She knew better than to attack a crew member. The directors only looked away during her altercations with Kim.

Joe laughed in delight. "I love when you threaten me."

"Are threats supposed to be romantic or something?" Kim asked Shego perplexedly.

"Don't ask," Shego replied.

"Oh, I see that I've stumped the two hottest girls on the set," Joe said happily. "I always wanted to be the guy who had the ladies guessing."

"Allow me to congratulate you on your success." Shego's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You know, Shego, if you don't watch out you might actually develop a thing for me."

"Uh… riiiiight. Like, that's going to happen. As soon as Drakken takes over the world."

Joe shrugged. "I'll just have to keep trying my luck." With one last saucy wink at Shego, he got up and walked away – to the break room, Kim knew from experience.

"Do you like that guy?" Kim asked curiously.

"Ew – no," Shego answered. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "And why are you asking me that? Why do you even care?"

"I don't think I've heard you say that much to a man before blasting him with plasma."

"No, probably not," Shego smirked. "Not my style."

Kim shrugged. "Well, later."

"Later. I'll finish kicking your ass next time, Cupcake."

Kim smirked. "Not unless I kick yours first."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Disclaimer: Please beware the KimRon and Sharkin interactions in this chapter. This story will turn KiGo soon. Promise.

As per her usual custom, Shego spent about an hour in her dressing room after shooting was finished for the day. She always took as long as possible at the end of the day in order to avoid the crazy fans that waited for the show's stars outside the studio. Most of them waited for Kim – dozens of teenage girls wearing green cargo pants and black midriff-baring turtlenecks, shrieking excitedly when they saw her approach. Kim, always the people-pleaser, would blushingly sign autographs and laugh politely when giggly girls asked her about the sitch. Kim always shrugged off the attention, calling it "No big," but Shego thought scornfully that Kim seemed to enjoy her iconic status.

Shego hated the fans. There were always a few Shego fans in the crowd. Shego despised those idiot girls who had nothing better to do than wait for hours outside the Disney studio in the hopes that they might catch a glimpse of her. Of course, the hopefuls didn't stand much of a chance. By the time Shego left, her makeup would be scrubbed off – she hated that makeup, it always made her break out – hair would be pulled into a messy bun, her green contacts would be replaced by her natural blue eye color and cats-eye glasses, and her faded jeans and oversized sweatshirt would hide her muscular and well-toned physique. If, by some off-chance, a fan-girl actually recognized Shego, she would be rewarded with such a menacing snarl that she wasn't likely to stick around for an autograph.

Of course, there was the occasional fan that was deemed acceptable. Every so often Shego would receive an e-mail from a well-trained martial arts devotee who actually wrote intelligently about the show's fight scenes. The acceptable fans, however, were not likely to be hanging outside the studio shrieking her name.

Shego scowled at her reflection in the mirror, savagely wiping off all residue of her makeup. She would have to tell David again that she was sick of the geisha look. The writers could always have her character hit by another meteor or something. Besides, after all those vacations, shouldn't Shego have a bit more of a tan? Shego thought that might actually make an interesting plot line for a new episode – Shego quits her gig with Drakken, heads for a tanning salon, and adds some highlights to her hair. Of course the writers would probably insist that Shego got back with Drakken by the end of the episode, which Shego privately (well, perhaps not very privately) thought was ridiculous. She couldn't imagine her character actually sticking around with that wimp.

As Shego eased out of her jumpsuit, she thought about David and Mark shooting her and Kim's actual fight without their realizing it. Kim had actually seemed a bit annoyed about it. Shego didn't give a damn. She knew that aesthetically, their fight was by far superior to their original routine. It was much grittier, realer, more personal and passionate, and that was all that mattered. If Kimmie-cub felt taken advantage of – well, that was the nature of the business. She wasn't being being paid to teach kindergarten.

Shego quickly put her hair up and got dressed in her customary jeans and yellow shirt. It was her firm policy to avoid all clothes green and black off the set. She rummaged through her purse for her car keys, and slipped out the back door of the studio. As anticipated, there were only a few fan-girls left, and none of them appeared to recognize Shego. She was surprised, however, to see Steve waiting near her car.

"Miss Go," Steve said in his customary bark, inclining his head toward her.

Shego smiled and did her best to turn it into a sneer. She couldn't help liking Steve, or at least respecting him. In her opinion, he was the only person on the set who actually took the job as seriously as she did. Well, Kim also did, in a way. She took the martial arts training seriously, and Shego couldn't help but grudgingly admire the way her skills had improved tremendously over the years. But Kim was far too busy being a star to be an actual artist. She wouldn't be surprised if Kim discontinued her training as soon as the show wrapped. Steve, on the other hand, lived and breathed his role of Mr. Barkin and probably always would. Some of the crew members privately – again, not so privately – thought that he was just wacked. Shego told them they were assholes.

"Mr. Barkin," Shego replied. She was one of the few cast members who respected Steve's wish to be called Mr. Barkin off the set. Well, Ron also called him Mr. Barkin, but that was more likely out of fear rather than respect. Everyone else called him Steve.

"Please," Mr. Barkin said, trying to sound smooth. "Call me Stevie."

"Stevie," Shego agreed with a slight giggle. Damn! That man always did bring out her soft side. She hated herself for it, but she just couldn't bring herself to be as sarcastic as she usually was around Stevie. Her only consolation was that Stevie couldn't quite keep up his poker face around her either.

"I was hoping to talk to you for a few minutes," Stevie said briskly.

Shego raised an eyebrow. "So you waited for me in the parking lot?" she asked incredulously. "Why not in the studio?"

Mr. Barkin stiffened. "I wanted to be certain that you had already returned your flame thrower to the props people," he said with all the dignity he could muster.

Shego narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you about to say something that would deserve the flame thrower?"

"It's – er, sometimes a bit hard to tell with you," Stevie answered. "Ever since the serenading incident."

"That was in the script."

"Not the part where you electrocute me."

Shego raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to ask me out, aren't you."

Stevie opened his mouth in surprise. "That's not – I had no – yes," he said finally.

Shego looked at him sideways. "Is this for real?"

"Affirmative."

Shego studied him critically. She never mixed her personal life with her professional life. Then again, she didn't actually have a personal life. And she knew that she could trust Stevie to be discreet. He took the show far too seriously to treat her differently on the set, even if they actually dated. He wouldn't crack any jokes about how she kicked ass or how she looked in a jumpsuit. Besides, she was bored. What the hell.

"Two conditions," she said finally, poking him firmly in the chest,. "No violins, and we go somewhere we won't get recognized by any stupid fans."

Stevie saluted. "Pick you up at nineteen hundred this Friday."

"Huh?"

"Seven p.m.," Stevie amended. "For you civilians."

Shego was careful not to smile until she was in her car and sure that Stevie could no longer see her.

That Friday, Kim and Ron sat opposite from one another in an upscale restaurant. Kim had told Ron in no uncertain terms that she was not willing to go anywhere within a ten-mile radius of Taco Bell. They filmed all their Bueno Nacho scenes in Taco Bell, and although Ron was fiercely loyal, Kim was sick of it.

"I still can't believe David and Mark," Kim said. "I can't believe they would film us actually fighting like that."

"You gotta admit, you were kicking some serious Shego butt in that second fight," said Ron.

"That's not the point, Ron," Kim protested. "They completely violated our privacy."

"Um, Kim? You two were fighting in front of an entire studio of people. That's not exactly what I would call a private setting."

"There's a difference between fighting in front of an entire studio," Kim said in annoyance, "and fighting in front of millions of people watching the show, Ronald!"

Ron placed a placating arm on Kim's, and Kim felt herself immediately relax. "KP," he said, reverting to her onscreen nickname affectionately, the way he often did when she was upset. "I'm sure you can talk to David about it if you feel uncomfortable."

Kim smiled at Ron. He really was sweet. She was lucky to have him for a boyfriend. It also didn't hurt that he was also considerably more attractive in real life than on the show. The costume people had Ron wear cotton balls behind his ears to make them stick out, and his vocal coach trained him to speak with a much higher pitch. Off-screen, however, Ron had normal-looking ears and a normal-sounding voice, and his hair and clothes were almost fashionable. He even wore five o'clock shadow on days when they weren't filming. He was also generally less goofy in real life, but you couldn't always count on that. Ten hours playing a bumbling sidekick each day took its toll, and Ron frequently let his onscreen persona slip, particularly when he was anxious.

"And even if they do use the fight, Kim, it's not so bad," he said. "Whenever I have an – er, unplanned accident during shooting, the directors use it. Even if I don't realize that they're filming. You don't see me complaining."

Kim wordlessly raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, so you do see my complaining," Ron whined. "But I could complain a whole lot more if I wanted to."

"I guess you have a point," Kim sighed. "But it feels so exploitative. Sometimes I even wonder if they arrange situations to get us to act a certain way in the hopes that they might catch us on film when we're not looking."

"You mean," Ron asked in a scandalized voice, "they might be setting wires or something to trip me up because it would look good onscreen?" Ron shook his head. "I knew there was something suspicious about all those times my pants fell off."

"Well, maybe," Kim said generously, although she was fairly certain that Ron's accidents did not rely on any intervention from the show's directors. "But right now I'm thinking more about Shego and me. Sometimes I think they get a real kick out of the – the relationship between us."

"What relationship between you?" Ron asked suspiciously..

"Not that kind of relationship," Kim said hurriedly. "What I mean is – I wonder if try to encourage our rivalry because they think that our fights will look more realistic on screen."

"If that's what they're doing, it's working pretty well."

Kim laughed. "I guess so." She began picking her fork up when she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, my goodness! I can't believe I nearly forgot!" she exclaimed. "I had a present for you." She reached into a bag and removed a small box with holes punctured in the side. "I thought you might appreciate one of these."

"Thanks, Kim!" Ron said excitedly. He opened the box and nearly dropped it from excitement. "RUFUS!" he cried out, scooping out the naked mole rat from the box. "Kim, you rock! How'd did you ever get him out of captivity? How did – "

"Ron – it isn't Rufus," Kim said quietly, feeling a bit guilty. She hadn't meant to lead him on.

Ron's face fell.

"I know how much you care about Rufus," Kim said hurriedly. "So I bought you a naked mole rat. I know it's not the same, but it's the best I could think of."

"Kim, that's the most romantic thing that anyone has ever done for me," Ron said solemnly, his voice slightly quavering.

"Ron, I'm the only one that's ever done anything romantic for you."

"Good point," agreed Ron. He turned to the mole rat, who was now yawning and scratching his ear. "He really does look like Rufus," Ron said. Suddenly, his face lit up with a grin.

"Whaaat?" asked Kim suspiciously.

"He may not be Rufus," Ron said conspiratorially, "But Mr. Barkin won't know that, will he?"

"Ron," Kim said sternly.

"I'm serious, Kim," Ron said earnestly. "I have two cargo pockets, don't I? One to sneak Rufus prime out, one to sneak Rufus II in."

Kim sighed. "This is so not a good idea."

"So not the drama, Kim," Ron reassured her.

Kim decided to give up. They both continued to talk and eat when suddenly Ron went pale. "Oh no," he moaned.

"What's wrong?" Kim asked, immediately tensing up. She felt her muscles twitch, ready to pounce, the result of several years of hard training in combat.

Ron sunk low in his seat. "Mr. Barkin is here."

"Steve Atkins? Ron, he's just another actor."

"He is the man that is holding Rufus in captivity," Ron protested. "He is hardly an innocent bystander in the production, Kim!"

"Don't you think you're over-reacting a little?"

"No way!" cried Ron.

Kim raised one eyebrow. "Are you sure you're not just nervous to see him because of the time when you accidentally released Drakkinger's octopus on him?"

"Wha – no – noooo," Ron protested. After a few moments, Ron was apparently satisfied that Steve was not going to attack and began to slowly inch his way up. "You gotta admit, though, the babe who's with him is pretty hot."

"Ron!" Kim said in an annoyed voice. She glared at him for a moment, but curiosity got the better of her. "Where?"

"Over there."

Kim craned her neck. Sure enough, there was Steve Atkins in a booth not too far away from them. He was accompanied by a beautiful woman wearing a gown that made Kim feel positively dowdy. Kim couldn't help but feel her breathing quicken.

"She is beautiful," she muttered under her breath. "She's –" Kim's jaw suddenly dropped. "Shego!"

"Where does she go?"

"No, Ron, look! It's Shego! As in Sheba Gomez!"

"Sheba Gomez!" Ron exclaimed. "I didn't know she had a last name!" He paused for a moment. "Then again, I didn't realize she had a first name, either."

"'Shego' is just what she goes by professionally," Kim said impatiently. She wasn't paying very careful attention to Ron. She was too busy staring at Shego, utterly shocked by the transformation.

Kim had rarely seen Shego off the set, so while she knew that Shego wasn't actually a pale green in real life, she was still surprised to see Shego's flawless, olive-toned skin. Shego's thick black hair was elegantly pulled up into a graceful updo, perfectly framing her well-chiseled face and softening her features. Her blue eyes – was blue their natural color, or was she wearing contacts? – were framed by eye makeup considerably lighter than what she wore on the set. She wore a pale blue gown which complimented her eyes and, although modest and relatively demure, hugged her figure perfectly. Most surprising of all, though, was the expression on her face – or rather, the lack of a certain expression which Kim was all too familiar with. For once, Shego's customary sneer was gone. Her smile appeared genuinely friendly, and there was no trace of the usual cynicism on her countenance. She appeared completely at ease with Steve, and, while she was hardly googly-eyed or conspicuously love-struck, she was clearly comfortable.

"Dude," Ron whistled. "Barkin and Shego? Never saw that one coming."

"Stranger things have happened," Kim said softly. She suddenly shook herself out of her reverie. "Look at us."

"Still," maintained Ron. "I mean, I didn't even think that Shego dated."

"I didn't even think that Shego _smiled," _Kim said. She paused. "Well, evil leers and nasty smirks don't count."

"Think they're serious?"

Kim looked at them carefully. "Nah," she said. Indeed, while they seemed to be chatting amiably, there did not seem to be any sparks flying between the two

(unlike between the two of you)

Kim was shocked and somewhat horrified by the sudden thought had struck her so unexpectedly. What on earth? The only sparks that flew between from her and Shego were anger, rivalry, jealousy, sometimes even an emotion that seemed to approach hatred. The only positive emotion that Kim related to Shego was the emotion of arousal, the thrill of combat, the rush of blood to the head that always accompanied a good fight. But why should she be thinking of that now? Did she associate Shego with fighting to the extent that the mere sight of her quickened her pulse in anticipation of a good fight? Apparently so. Kim turned her head away so that she wouldn't see Shego in her peripheral vision. She didn't want to be thinking about combat now. Now was not the time to think about the show or to worry about Shego. She was here to be with Ron. She suddenly leaned over and impulsively kissed him, catching Ron completely off-guard. Ron was stunned into passivity for a few moments, but quickly gained his bearings and reached his fingers onto Kim's temples, bringing Kim's head as close to his as possible. It was a long, passionate kiss, longer than any other kiss they had ever shared, and Ron felt sure that he could die happy.

A few tables away, Shego and Steve were ordering appetizers and laughing over their inability to pronounce the French words. They were both far more relaxed than usual, and much less uptight than they normally were.

After a few moments, Steve suddenly groaned. "Greeeaaat," he muttered under his breath. "Middleton High School has joined us."

"What are you talking about?"

Steve heaved a huge sigh. "Possible and Stoppable."

"Um, explain, please?"

"Riley and Perlman!" Steve barked. "Over there!"

Shego's heart sank. Damn! She knew this was a bad idea! This was just what she needed! A couple of immature teenagers to blab to the whole set about her and Steve. She could just imagine Joe the cameraman's reaction. Let him just try winking at her. She would hurl some serious flame at him! She'd show him what she meant by kicking serious ass, regulations or no regulations. She didn't care if she'd get in trouble again for maiming a crew member. They needed her too badly on the show to fire her. Besides, Glenn eventually regained use of his legs, so it wasn't as though she had hurt him _that _badly. They couldn't still hold it against her.

Shego banged her napkin against the table. "This really sucks. They'll blab to the whole set. My reputation will be shot."

"I have a secret weapon."

"You brought my flame thrower?"

"Better," Steve said in a dangerous voice. "Detention."

"Er, yeah, about that," Shego said in a bored voice. "You just _play_ their teacher, remember?"

"Not quite," Steve said. "In addition to playing their teacher and acting as the naked rat's animal trainer – "

"Ew – you actually have to touch that thing?"

"—I am their on-set tutor," Steve continued.

"Wait – seriously?"

"Affirmative," barked Steve. "They are still officially in their senior year."

"So you have the power to threaten them with detention? Stevie, that has got to be the sneakiest, most underhanded thing I've ever heard." She smiled evilly. "I love it."

"So do I."

Shego suddenly furrowed her eyebrows. "So – er, Stevie – exactly what else do you do on the set?"

Steve sighed. "Don't ask," he replied.

Stevie began listing his various duties on the show, but Shego was no longer listening. She couldn't help but look over a few tables to where Ron and Kim were sitting. They certainly seem friendly, she thought wryly to herself. That idiot Kim! Shego couldn't believe her hooking up with the buffoon. Didn't Kim realize that she was being played by the show's producers? They had encouraged the romance from the start because they thought an off-screen romance would boost their ratings. Stupid kid. She was playing the part the studio wanted her to play, both onscreen and off, and she didn't even realize what she was doing. She didn't even know the difference between fantasy and reality anymore. Not that Shego cared. Kim was a good fighter and a good actress, but she couldn't care less about her. The only reason she thought about her at all was because of the ancient rivalry they had going on between them, a rivalry that both of them enjoyed fiercely.

Just you wait, Kimmie, Shego thought to herself fiercely. Better hold to that boyfriend tight. Because if you so much as breathe a word to anyone about me and Stevie, you will be needing some serious protection. Prepare to have your ass kicked, Cupcake.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

"PRINCESS IS GETTING A COSTUME CHANGE?!"

David jumped up instinctively as a copy of the latest script landed on his desk with a loud thwap. He had been busy listening to his voice mail and hadn't noticed Shego stomp into his office, although he had been expecting her to. He looked up to face her now. Apparently Shego had been reading the script while in the makeup chair. Her hair was still in curlers and wrapped in a towel, and the right side of her face was slathered with pale green face paint. The towel and smears of face paint only served to make Shego look more threatening.

"Shego, baby," David said with a wide, toothy PR grin. "I see you have been reading next episode's script."

Shego glared at him. "You're giving Kimmie new mission clothes!" she accused.

David shrugged. "The time was ripe."

"The time was ripe?" Shego demanded. "The time was _ripe_? I'm the one who has been clamoring for a new look for ages, you prick! I'm the one who's constantly told that the budget doesn't allocate enough finances for the wardrobe department!"

"Shego, you don't need a new look," David reasoned. "Your suit's a classic. It's the look that everyone associates with Shego. The fans are used to seeing Kim in all kinds of clothes anyway, so changing her mission gear wouldn't be nearly as startling as changing yours would be."

"Which is exactly why Kimmie doesn't need a costume change as much as I do," retorted Shego.

"Shego, you can't have Shego without the green and black."

"So you say. Even the gowns you make me wear to the premiers are green and black."

"Hey, the getup works." David smiled. "And the colors bring out your hair and eyes."

"Only because you make me dye my hair and wear contacts," sneered Shego. "I'd be more than willing to go natch and get a new suit."

"Shego, are you sure you're not just jealous of Kim?"

"Jealous of _Kimmie_?" Shego growled. She let out a quick, barking laugh. "As if."

David shrugged. "Just a theory." The phone suddenly rang. David picked it up and said in a bored voice, "David Chumley."

Shego waited impatiently as David finished the phone call. "I see… How soon will this take?... It better… All right, thanks Glenn." He hung up the phone. "Bad news, Shego," he said in wearily. "I'm afraid your dressing room's out of commission."

"What? Why?" Shego demanded.

"Apparently it's been flooded. Glenn managed to get your stuff out on time, though; it should all be in his office."

"Whoah, back up!" Shego roared. "I was just in my room two minutes ago. What the hell happened in there?"

"Well, let's see," David said sarcastically. "Glenn said something about you kicking a pipe after you stalked out of the makeup chair."

"Damn it!" Shego slammed her fist on David's table. "Can't this freaken studio invest in some decent plumbing?"

"Can't you invest in some decent anger management training?" David demanded.

"That's not exactly part of my contract," Shego said hotly.

"Well, if you want there to be a new contract, maybe it's something you should start considering."

"The hell I should," Shego growled. "Like that's even what you want me to do. You damn directors try to rile me up all the time, thinking you might get some hot action caught on film."

"There was no one with a camera in your dressing room, Shego," David said in annoyance. "Besides, so what if we try to get under your skin on the set? You make it so easy. Anyway, I've never seen you complaining about filming a good fight scene, regardless if it had been staged or not."

"That's because I care about the craft," Shego snarled. "All you care about are the damn ratings."

"That's because the craft's not exactly in _my _contract, Shego."

Shego glared at him icily as the door to David's office suddenly crashed open.

"Hey, Dave," Joe said. "We're ready to shoot the first scene. The tweebs are on set and the cameras are all set up."

"Thanks, Joe."

"Hey, heard about your dressing room," Joe turned to Shego with a wink. "If you need the space, you can always change in my office. Just wait till I get there."

"Asshole," Shego muttered, clenching her fists. "I'll burn the place for you."

"That's a generous offer, Joe," David interrupted loudly. "But Shego will change in Kim's room."

"WHAT?!" Shego shouted. "Oh, no I won't!"

"That's the only available space," David argued. "All the other actresses share a dressing room. You and Kim are the only ones who have a private."

"Yeah, and there's a reason for that!" protested Shego.

"Shego, will you stop acting like a goddamn diva? This whole thing is only temporary."

"I am so not going to share a room with Kimmie!"

"Then you can take Joe up on his offer," David said, his eyes flashing.

"The hell I will," Shego muttered between clenched teeth. With one final glare at David and Joe, she stalked out of the office and stomped down the hall to retrieve her things from Glenn's office.

Shego stormed into Kim's dressing room without bothering to knock.

"What the hell!" Kim cried. She hurriedly grabbed a robe and held it up in front of her, but not before Shego caught a quick glimpse of her in her underwear. As much as Shego hated to admit it, the kid didn't have a bad figure.

"My, my, my," Shego drawled. "So the Princess swears after all."

Kim colored fiercely. "What are you doing in here, Shego?"

Shego ignored her. "Move over, roomie," she barked. "You're hogging my side of the room."

"The whole room is my side of the room, you jerk!" Kim snapped.

"Not anymore," Shego sneered. "Take it up with the management." She stalked over towards the nearest chair and dumped her stuff down. She knew that she was being needlessly nasty, but she didn't have much sympathy towards the brat who had probably blabbed to the entire studio about her and Stevie.

"Okay, can someone please tell clue me in?" Kim snapped. Without warning, she suddenly thought of how she had seen Shego with Steve that Friday. Was it only three days ago that Shego looked so – well, normal? It seemed ages ago. Now the woman was standing inches in front of her face, foul-tempered as ever, looking slightly frightening with three curlers hanging in her hair and smears of pale green face paint smeared across half of her face.

"Here's the 411, Cupcake," Shego yawned. "My room's flooded, so we either share the room for now or you can head for Joe's office. Just make sure you stick around till he shows up; he asked me to tell you that."

Kim groaned. "That Joe is such a dumbass."

Shego couldn't help laughing. "That's one time we agree, Cupcake. Don't get too used to it." Without warning or bothering to turn around, she pulled her sweatshirt off her head and tossed it away.

Kim groaned. "Shego!" she protested, covering her eyes. "TMI!"

"What's your problem?" Shego demanded.

"Too much information!" Kim snapped. "Do you have to flash me?"

Shego stood with her hand of hips and smiled at Kim condescendingly. Kim tried to ignore the sight of Shego's cleavage popping out of its red brassiere. "They're called boobs, Kimmie. One day you just might grow a pair yourself." She chuckled. "Then again," she purred, "with that boyfriend, you probably won't even need them."

Without thinking Kim furiously lunged at Shego, not noticing that the robe she was holding dropped to the floor. Shego grabbed Kim's fist easily and continued to grin unpleasantly.

Kim wrenched her wrist out of Shego's grip. She grabbed Shego's wrist and flung her across the room, but Shego landed neatly on her feet. Fuming, Kim narrowed her eyes and told Shego through gritted teeth, "Ron prefers the real thing." She grinned nastily. "Of course, Stevie might not be particular."

Shego roared and pounced on Kim, blood rushing to her ears. The little bitch! She wrestled her to the floor, green contacts blazing. Kim writhed out of Shego's hold and flipped her over, pinning Shego to the ground. Kim felt her pulse speed up, the way it always did during a good fight, and she felt sweat begin to drip down the back of her neck.

"Careful, Princess," Shego growled, trying to twist out of Kim's hold. "You just might break a nail." She suddenly kicked Kim in the stomach so that Kim flew backwards. She then performed a quick somersault in the air and landed on Kim, who managed to push Shego onto her back. They continued fighting and punching each on the floor, rolling over repeatedly. Neither of them managed to keep the other pinned down for too long. Bottles of moisturizer and makeup fell and crashed around them, but both were concentrating too hard on their fight to notice.

Their scuffle grew so loud that they nearly didn't hear David loudly rapping on the door. "Break it up!" he shouted angrily. "Save it for the set!"

Kim and Shego abruptly stopped wrestling. They didn't let go of each other – Kim was currently pinning Shego down – but they stopped moving to listen to what David was saying.

"If you bust up another dressing room, I'll have the cost of repairs docked from your paychecks!" David bellowed. "Now you better finish getting dressed and resume your goddamn fistfight during shooting!"

Kim and Shego didn't respond to David, and they heard him stomp away after a few moments. They continued to glare at each other, and although they stopped fighting, neither of them let the other go. Their eyes continued to bore into one another, flashing angrily for several minutes. Both of them felt their chests rise and fall sharply, and sweat was rolling down between their breasts.

After several moments, Kim suddenly felt something change in their eye contact. They continued to glower angrily and furious sparks continued to fly between their pupils. Even so, Kim was uncomfortably aware that the sensation between was suddenly, inexplicably, perplexedly shifting into something else. There was still rage flowing between them – and in abundance – but the nature of the rage had changed perceptibly.

Shego felt the difference too. Her eyes widened, and her stomach twisted sharply and painfully. Her heartbeat thumped loudly in her ears. She suddenly stopped breathing as she felt Kim lean in towards her – ever so slightly – and felt the warmth of her breast closing in on hers. Shego felt her throat constrict, and Kim suddenly stopped in her tracks. She began to release her grip from Shego's wrists, and began easing away from Shego. Shego felt a sudden longing in her throat, but was not even sure what she was longing for. She began easing her way up, and Kim slowly shifted her position to allow Shego to get up. After a few moments, both were in a sitting position, their eyes still locked.

"SHOOTING STARTS IN FIVE!"

Kim and Shego suddenly jumped. Joe's shrill voice had shattered their reverie. They both guiltily got to their feet and wordlessly began throwing their clothes on.

"I better get to the set," Kim suddenly said awkwardly.

"I better get back to the makeup chair," Shego said in daze.

"Right," Kim said tonelessly. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and headed for the door. She suddenly turned to Shego.

"See you," she said flatly. Then she darted out the door.

Shego listlessly pulled her gloves and boots on. She wouldn't be needed on the set for at least another hour. Glenn would be waiting for Shego in his office – he wasn't going to do her makeup in Kim's room – but there was plenty of time.

(What the hell just happened)

it was nothing, just nothing, it was a stupid fight, same as usual, they always fought,

(but never with their clothes off)

and this was really no different, they had just been in the process of changing, they only felt charged because of the adrenaline rush, they always felt that when they fought,

(what the hell just happened)

and that didn't mean there was anything else there, of course there wasn't.

Shego mentally shook herself. Get over yourself, bitch. Shego laced her boots, sat down in a chair quietly for a few moments, and then purposefully strode out of the chair, out of the room, and down the hall.

Kim reached the set breathlessly.

"Sorry I'm late," she called out towards David and Mark's direction.

"Hey, Kim," Ron greeted her. He then lowered his voice and patted his cargo pocked. "I brought Rufus, but he's not in the scene yet so – "

Without warning, Kim grabbed him forcefully and kissed him, long and hard, as passionately as she had kissed him last Friday.

Joe wolf-whistled. "Wow," he muttered. "We should get this on fi– "

"Roll 'em," David whispered.

"You got it," Joe said. Mark sighed and rolled his eyes.

Kim and Ron finally pulled apart slowly.

"Wow," Ron muttered. He smiled. "Heh. That was nice."

Steve was holed up in his office and ready to lose his mind in frustration. The naked mole rate had done this same trick thousands of times before, but for some reason, he just refused to cooperate today. Damn. In another hour Rufus would be called to the set, and Steve would look like an idiot.

"Come on, Rufus," he muttered under his breath. Then a bit louder, "Stoppable, this is your fault. I don't know how, but I know it is." He suddenly heard a forceful banging on his door.

"Don't even think about begging for mercy, Stoppable!" Steve barked.

The door slammed open forcefully. Steve looked up in surprise at the person framed by the doorway.

It wasn't Stoppable.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"I just don't understand it," said Stevie. He and Shego were strolling down her block, arm in arm. "When I work with him one-on-one, he's completely hopeless. Then we get onto the set, and somehow, he's performing all the moves exactly the way they're described in the script. It's as though he manages to get things right by sheer dumb luck."

"Sounds familiar," Shego said dryly. "Well, as long as he gets things right during the actual shooting, does it really matter what goes on during rehearsals?"

Steve gazed at her disbelievingly. "It most certainly does," he said firmly. "Consistency is paramount in the business. The public does not tolerate fluctuation in performance."

Shego rolled her eyes. "Look, I admit it's strange. But there's gotta be a good reason for it."

"Reeaaally," Steve droned.

Shego shrugged. "His mind is elsewhere."

"Naked mole rats don't have minds, Shego."

"That has never been scientifically proven."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "All right, wise guy," he said disbelievingly. "Why exactly would his so-called 'mind' be elsewhere?"

Shego smiled provocatively. "Maybe he's in love."

"Riiiiight."

Shego and Steve laughed. The sun was setting, and a gentle breeze ruffled Shego's hair and played with Steve's tie. Shego tried not to notice that the tie clashed terribly with his suit and failed.

The pair finally reached the porch of Shego's house.

"Thank you," Shego told Steve sincerely. "I had a wonderful time."

"I did too," Steve said softly.

"Well," Shego said self-consciously. She rummaged through her purse to find her keys, but her fingers were trembling slightly and she couldn't quite grip anything. She continued to fumble, catching Steve's eye and chucking in embarrassment. She finally caught the little buggers and lifted them for Steve to see, almost defensively, and laughed nervously again.

Steve returned her awkward laugh. He continued to watch her face expectantly, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Shego thought for several moments, but then turned to jam her keys into her lock.

"See you around," she said finally, as gently as she could. As she shut the door, she couldn't help catching a glimpse of Steve's disappointed expression. Shego turned the lock, tested it to make sure that it was secure, and heaved a deep sigh of relief. She really did enjoy Steve's company. It was only their partings that were so damn awkward, and Shego hated feeling awkward. She was usually the one who made others feel uncomfortable, and she preferred to keep it that way.

Kim entered her dressing room early, pulled clothes roughly off the rack, and threw them on quickly. Hopefully she would get Cindy and Glenn to do her hair and makeup early, and then she'd be out of there before Shego got to the studio. How long did it take for a damn dressing room to dry out? It had been three days already.

Thank God they hadn't needed to shoot any scenes together. They were supposed to shoot part of a fight yesterday, but Shego had mysteriously flubbed several of her lines. Shego never messed up shots, not counting the times she pounced on someone or set them on green fire.

"Shego, will you get your head back in the game!" David had shouted irritably. Under normal circumstances Kim would have commented or at least gloated – payback for all those snide comments about stunt doubles – but Kim and Shego were determinedly avoiding each other. Even Ron and Drakken had noticed.

"The two of you seem to be getting along a lot better lately," Drakken had told Shego while drinking a cup of cocoa moo in the break room.

"Dude, that's because they _aren't talking_," Ron had pointed out.

"Oh." Drakken had frowned. "I wondered what it was."

"I never get to have any fun anymore," Joe had whined.

"Nice milk moustache, Blue Boy; your makeup's streaking," Shego had yawned, ignoring the previous comments. Shego's putdown of Drakken made Kim feel strangely left out.

Kim finished dressing hurriedly and dashed out her door in relief, practically knocking into Allie. Her hands were filled with fabrics and tape measurements.

"Hey, Kim, glad I could catch you," Allie said. "I was hoping we could squeeze in a fitting."

"Fitting?"

"Your new mission clothes," Allie responded. "I showed you the designs the other day, remember?"

"Oh right," Kim mumbled. "Er, do we have to do that right now?"

"Why not? I checked the board. You're not on for another half hour or so."

"Fine," Kim muttered, and began peeling her clothes resignedly.

Shego entered twenty minutes later. Kim was thankful that she was fully dressed, although Allie was still poking her in odd places and stretching material in others.

"Oh, look, Heidi Klum is back." That was Shego's idea of a greeting.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Allie said with her mouth full of pins.

Shego glanced at Kim. "The look actually might work," she finally said.

"You approve. My life is complete," Kim responded dryly. It was the longest conversation they'd had in days.

Shego didn't say another word, but she continued to gaze critically at Kim and Allie with arms folded. After several minutes, she finally shrugged and began slowly pulling off her shoes and socks.

"All right, you're done," Allie said cheerfully. "You can take these off now, Kim. Watch out for the pins."

Shego and Kim glanced at each other briefly.

"Be right back," Shego mumbled and exited the room. She and Kim both knew that she would be back in about five minutes and that Kim had better hurry and be finished changing before then.

Kim removed the clothes and thanked Allie. She began throwing her jeans and shirt on before Allie finished scooping the new clothes up. She zipped her jeans as Allie was leaving, buttoned her shirt as the door closed, and shoved up her socks as she heard Shego bang on the door.

"You decent?" Shego's voice called out.

"Depends who you ask," Kim answered, grabbing a pair of sneakers. She opened the door and swept out.

"All yours, Your Majesty," Kim said. Shego strode past her wordlessly and slammed the door behind her.

Kim stood silently in the hall in her socks for a few minutes. She eyed the door and thought about the fight scene that they were scheduled to shoot today. There was no way of getting out of it; David would kill them both if they tried to pull off any schtick today. Maybe Ron would have some sort of mishap on the set. Was that too much to ask from a boyfriend?

"You think you're all that, Kimberly Ann Possible!" Drakken roared. "But you're nooottttt!"

"Dude, that line is so old," Ron complained. "After all the times we've battled, can't you come up with something new?"

Draken growled. "Enough lip!" he howled. "Shego! Get them!"

Shego yawned, eyeing her gloved nails. "What's in it for me?"

"Your…paycheck?" Ron suggested.

"Ron!" scolded Kim.

"Those aren't the lines," Mark whispered to David. David ignored him.

"All right – we'll do it the old way," Shego shrugged. "I still say we vaporize them."

"Yeah, like _that_ really worked last time," Kim said. She and Shego remained in their fighting stances and glared at one another, but neither moved.

"Get on with it!" David shouted. "What is this, are we about to sit around a campfire and sing kumbaya or something?"

"Stalling for time, Shego?" Kim asked hurriedly, sensing David's annoyance.

Shego sneered. "As if." She swiftly threw a punch at Kim, who easily backflipped over Shego. The fight was on.

Kim kicked, punched, jumped, and twisted to the familiar rhythm a rhythm which only she and Shego seemed to hear. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, the familiar hammering of her heart, the familiar rush of blood to her head. And she felt a rush – no, not quite a rush, more of a slowly increasing flow – of a different energy, a new energy that was now – much to her consternation – becoming associated with the thrill of fighting Shego.

Don't get distracted, Kim scolded herself. You've got a job to do. You're not the little kid that started this show a few years ago for fun, all excited that she was making it into show biz. You're a professional. Remember what the Sensei used to tell you. Channel your distraction into the fight, but don't let it sidetrack you, or you will find into the hands of the opponent.

"Cut!" David finally called out. Kim and Shego, who were wrestling on the floor at the moment, stopped fighting immediately.

"That was great!" David called enthusiastically. "Just great! Break for lunch, people, and then we'll do another take from a different angle."

Shego and Kim continued to look at one another for a moment longer than they normally would have. They broke free of each other abruptly and scrambled to their feet, avoiding each other's eyes. Both were breathing much more deeply than they normally did after a fight, and Kim – who had felt so energetic moments ago – was surprised by the sheer exhaustion she suddenly felt.

"That was excellent, as usual, Kim," Ron said proudly.

"Thank you," said Kim, still panting slightly. She took Ron's hand, kissed him on the cheek, and quietly led him to the break room for lunch.

Kim and Ron joined Monique at their usual corner of the break room. The three of them normally ate lunch together. Unfortunately for Rufus, no animals were allowed in the break room and Ron, a known violator of this rule, was always patted down before being permitted to enter. Bonnie sometimes joined them grudgingly, but often ate with the girls who played the other cheerleaders. Apparently she was torn between hanging with the losers who were the stars and the socially acceptable crowd who were merely extras. It was tough being cool and a supporting character at the same time.

Monique tried to eat her lunch as Kim and Ron tried to eat other's faces. Monique was not making much headway, and was thankful when Allie peaked her head in and called Kim out for another fitting.

"Man," Monique demanded of Ron, "What is going on with you two?"

Ron smiled absently. He still seemed a bit detached from the world.

"Earth to Ron!" Monique exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry Monique, did you say something?"

"The two of you haven't been able to keep your hands off of each other for days!" Monique pointed out. "What's going on?"

"Oh, yeah," Ron grinned. "The Ron man's got it going on."

"The Ron man's gotta get a hotel room."

"Hey, Kim does have a birthday coming up – think she'd want one of those?"

Monique rolled her eyes. "Look, bro. Something's obviously happened between the two of you, so spill already."

"Nothing to it, Monique. Is it so hard to believe that Kim just can't bring herself to take her hands off of me?"

"Frankly, yes."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked defensively.

"It's nothing against you, Ron. It's just not your type – yours or Kim's."

"Look, Monique, it's cool!" Ron leaned back, closed his eyes, and crossed his arms behind his head. "The Ron man's got it all under control."

"That's what I'm afraid of," muttered Monique.

"Monique," Ron asked, opening one eye to glance at Monique, "if you're so worried, why aren't you talking to Kim?"

"Because _you_ don't know sixteen styles of Kung Fu."

"I'll have you know that I trained for _months_ in Monkey Kung Fu just for those few episodes!" Ron protested.

"Duly noted," Monique said dryly.

"Listen, Monique, seriously. If anything unusual was happening between me and Kim, don't you'd think I'd know about it?"

Monique looked at him skeptically. "You don't want me to answer that."

Ron finally looked worried. "Wait, are you saying that something's up with Kim that's causing her to act different around me? Is there something wrong that I don't know about?" Ron began pulling his hair in panic. "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME?!"

"This _is_ my way of telling you," Monique said soothingly.

"Oh, yeah, very funny."

"Okay, I'm not saying anything's _wrong,"_ Monique continued. "Just that's it might be important to know why or if something has changed between the two of you. So if you don't know, bro, you better start asking yourself."

Ron frowned. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask Kim?"

Monique raised an eyebrow. "Sixteen styles of Kung Fu, Ron."

"Oh," Ron sighed, sinking into his seat. "Right."

_Man, _Ron thought. Relationships are so _complicated_.

"Thanks, Allie, the clothes look great!" Kim called after Allie gratefully.

"My pleasure, Kim!" Allie called back as she was leaving the dressing room.

Kim began pulling her jeans back on when Shego suddenly barged into the dressing room and flung the door shut behind her. Kim instinctively grabbed her shirt in front of her. By the surprised look on Shego's face, Kim realized that Shego had thought that Kim was still in the break room for lunch. She suddenly remembered that she hadn't seen Shego – or Steve Atkins, for that matter – in the break room that day.

"Er – later," Shego muttered. She reached out to pull the door knob and was about to twist when they suddenly heard a loud rap on the door.

"Ladies!" Joe's voice called out in a sing-song voice. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! I know you're in there! Open up!"

"_Don't open that door!" _Kim hissed desperately to Shego. Thankfully Shego listened. Kim hurriedly threw a shirt on and began buttoning. "Okay, go ahead."

Shego opened the door. "What do you want, Joe?" she asked in an annoyed voice.

"Hellllooo," Joe said with a saucy smile. He looked at Shego lasciviously – Shego began clenching her teeth and fists – and then glanced at Kim.

"Heyyyyy," Joe purred. "Looks like I missed some good action."

Shego turned to cast a warning glance at Kim, who was blushing furiously. She was still buttoning her shirt, and she suddenly realized that while she had pulled up her jeans, she hadn't zipped them up.

Shego turned back to Joe furiously. "In case you haven't noticed, this is a _dressing room, _as in a room where we _get dressed,"_ she seethed.

Joe smiled again. "Oh, I've noticed," he replied. "Trust me. I have _definitely _noticed."

"Joe, have you come in here for any other purpose other than sexual harassment?" Kim demanded.

"Why, Kim, I most certainly have!" Joe beamed. "I've got two tickets to the Lakers game tonight. Want to come with?"

"I thought this wasn't supposed to be sexual harassment."

"Touché. Shego, how about you?"

"Get the hell out of here," Shego said irritably. She began shoving Joe towards the door.

"You haven't heard the rest of my proposal!" Joe protested.

"Don't need to." Shego slammed the door.

Shego and Kim heard Joe banging his fists on the door. "Come on!" he whined. "I can give you a good time! Both of you!"

"Not interested!" Kim called back.

"Come on, what's the point in knowing hot chicks if you don't get to date them?"

"Fuck off!" Shego shouted.

Joe continued to plead and bang on the door. Shego and Kim both leaned their backs against the door to keep him out.

"I hate those guys," Shego muttered over the banging. "They think that if you're totally not into them, you must be gay."

"I know," Kim agreed. "So the asshole."

"Hey, don't you start agreeing with me, Cupcake!" Shego snarled.

Kim clenched her fists to keep herself from pouncing on Shego.

"When I said 'asshole,'" Kim hissed, "didn't you stop to think that I might have been referring to you?"

Shego glared at her furiously for a few seconds. It seemed to cost all her self-control to keep herself from attacking Kim. After a few intense seconds, she suddenly she burst out into laughter.

"Good one, Princess," she finally said.

Kim looked at Shego in surprise. She would never figure that woman out.

Joe gave one final loud bang against the door. "Your loss, ladies!" he shouted. He then stomped away.

"We so need to report that guy," Kim said, shaking her head.

"Like, sue him for millions of dollars for creating a hostile work environment?"

"Yeah," agreed Kim. "Works for me."

"Works for me too," Shego said. She suddenly smiled evilly. "Of course," she said, "there _is _something else that we can do that just might work."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

"Kim," Ron whispered softly in her ear.

"Hmm?" Kim murmured dreamily. She was leaning across him on the couch in the Shapiro household.

"Um…" Ron hesitated. He had been avoiding this conversation for days, but his conversation with Monique had planted a seed on anxiety in his mind that was steadily growing. "Well, you see, it's just that… um… well, I was wondering… Is – is everything okay between us?"

Kim smiled and poked his chest lightly. "I know an easy way of telling you," she purred seductively.

Ron blushed. This was going to be even worse than he thought. "Kim," he repeated, trying to gain firmer control over his voice. "I'm just noticing that you're… you're acting differently around me."

Kim grinned broadly. "I thought you'd never notice."

"Apparently so did Monique," Ron muttered. "Why am I always the last one to find out about these things?"

"It's an endearing trait of yours."

Ron cleared his throat. He would have to focus. "Kim, it's just that lately you've been acting kind of…"

"Affectionate?" suggested Kim.

"Horny," corrected Ron.

Kim's mouth dropped open for a second, but she tried to rearranged her facial expression quickly. "Well," she stammered. "I… I… I didn't think you'd mind," she said as steadily as possible.

"Oh, no, I don't!" Ron said hurriedly. "It's just that – well, the change in you was kind of sudden, and I wanted to – "

"Sudden?" demanded Kim. "Was I so cold before?"

"No, not at all!" Ron rushed. Damn Monique! Things were so much less complicated when you were oblivious; why couldn't she just leave him that way? "You were great, you were the perfect girlfriend– "

"And now I'm not?"

"No, no, no!" Ron felt flustered. He sighed deeply and said with remarkable composure, "Look, Kim, I just want to make sure that there's nothing about… about _us_ or anything else that's bothering you. You know, like maybe this change is your way of telling me something."

Kim looked deeply into Ron's understanding eyes.. "Everything's fine," she said quietly, trying to ignore the pangs of guilt that had just developed in her abdomen. "It's just… well, I felt that I had been taking advantage of you lately. I thought I should be more open, show my feelings a bit better. Let you see just how much I appreciate you."

"Oh," Ron sighed in relief. So that… was a good thing, wasn't it? It didn't sound like it was a bad thing, but he would have to run it by Monique to be sure. He grinned broadly. "Well, then," he said.

Kim leaned in closer to Ron. "Well, then," she repeated. "Aren't you glad that's all over?"

"You have no idea," he said.

"Shall we proceed?"

"Sure," Ron said eagerly. "We haven't had a good conversation in days. Let's do this more often."

Kim frowned. "That wasn't exactly what I was referring to when I suggested we proceed,'" she said.

"Oh. Heh," Ron stammered, blushing again. "Well, I had been kind of hoping… you see, there's this thing going on with Barkin that I wanted to talk over with you…"

Kim silenced Ron with a well-placed kiss. Ron, who had been caught unawares, remained passive for several seconds. He then wrapped his arms snugly around Kim and returned her kiss passionately. They could always talk later. That was the only downfall of being Kim's boyfriend; there was a lot less time for schmoozing.

"Thank you, Stevie," Shego smiled. "Dinner was fantastic."

Steve returned her smile. "I thought so too," he said. He suddenly cleared his throat. "Um – I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Well – neither of us have any scenes to shoot during the next two weeks," Steve said slowly.

"True," Shego said just a slowly.

"Well… I have a condo in Boca," Steve began hesitantly.

"You have a condo in _Boca?"_ Shego interrupted incredulously.

Steve stiffened slightly. "Affirmative," he said with dignity. "I was wondering… I thought that maybe you…" Steve's voice trailed off.

Shego suddenly felt herself grow red. "I – " she began to stammer. Damn! There was nothing she hated more than stuttering. It brought back painful memories of a gawky adolescence – but now was not the time to think about that.

"Unless you feel that it's a lack of propriety," Steve said in a rush. "I hope I haven't offended you."

"No, no, of course not," Shego said quickly. "We're both adults…"

"My intentions are entirely honorable," said Steve.

Shego smiled. "I'm not sure I trust a man who says that he has honorable intentions," she joked. Seeing the dismay on Steve's face, she hastily added, "Kidding!"

"Riiight," Steve nodded uncertainly. "If it will make your decision any easier, my condo has two bedrooms."

Shego studied Stevie carefully and with great affection. He really was a nice guy, and was a true gentleman. She would not have to worry for her virtue in his condo. Stevie was the only man that she had ever met who was not completely intimidated by her, the only man who was as rough around the edges as she was, the only man that had earned her respect. He was the only person who was spared the brunt of Shego's sarcasm because, remarkably, she felt no need to put him down. That made Shego feel very vulnerable, but at the same time, protective over Steve.

"I have an idea," Shego suggested finally. "My dad has a condo outside Miami. How about I stay there for a week, and we can spend the days together?"

"That sounds wonderful," Steve responded. He suddenly frowned. "I'll pay for the tickets, of course – "

"Oh, cut the chivalry," Shego snapped impatiently. "We both have more money than we know what to do with it." She then smiled more softly. "I'll book the tickets for Tuesday," she said as she turned her key into the lock. She felt both noble and guilty at the same time.

"Good night." Steve leaned in and gave Shego an impulsive kiss on the cheek.

Shego slowly walked in through the door and tossed her purse on the couch unceremoniously. She sighed deeply as she sank into her couch, kicking off her heels. Only a man could have invented such a think like high heels. Whoever he was, he was going straight to hell.

The telephone let out a shrill ring. Shego groaned and picked it up, silently cursing whoever it was on the other line.

"'Lo?" Shego said gracelessly.

"Hi. It's Kim."

Shego nearly slammed the phone down on its receiver. Kim! She was the last person she wanted to hear from right now! And she was supposed to have a two-week break from that kid.

"How the hell did you get this phone number?" demanded Shego.

Kim ignored the question. "Shego," she asked, "do you have a ton of messages on your voice mail?"

"Look, Kimmie," Shego said impatiently, her temper rising, "I really don't have time for this – "

"Just shut up and check your cell phone," Kim said flatly.

Something in Kim's voice troubled Shego. Without knowing why she was bothering, Shego dug her cell phone out of her bag.

"This better be good, Princess," she mumbled as she flipped it open and dialed voice mail.

"You have twenty-one new messages," said the mechanical voice.

"Holy crap!" Shego burst out.

"I figured," Kim said.

Shego's temper rose further. "You left me all these messages?"

"As if," Kim said coldly. "Why don't you listen to a few of them."

With a sense of foreboding, Shego pressed the pound key.

"Hey, there, sweet cakes," a creepy voice intoned. "Gimme a call and…" Delete. Next message. "Baby, honey!" Delete. Shego quickly flipped through about five messages, each one apparently from a different man and becoming increasingly obscene.

"Are all these messages like this?" Shego demanded.

"One of them is from me," Kim said. "And you may have other real messages buried in the crap. But I think you get the general idea."

Shego's heart pounded loudly. _If I took my blood pressure now, I'd probably bust the mercury out of the tube_. "How the hell do you know what's going on in my cell phone?"

"First of all, I have the same kind of messages on mine. Second of all, you may want to go online and check craiglist."

"Oh, shit," groaned Shego, running towards her computer. "That's where all these messages are coming from?"

"Yeah. That's how I got your cell number and left you a message. I looked up your home number because you weren't picking up."

Shego frantically banged random keys on her keyboard in attempt to speed up her computer, cursing fluently under her breath.

"The good news is that our real names are not on the site. We have been christened Domino and Trixie."

"That's the good news?" demanded Shego. She suddenly realized something. "Wait a minute. If our names aren't on the site, how'd you know the other number was mine?"

"Because as soon as I saw that ad, I figured that it was probably Joe," Kim replied. "Wade hacked the system, and he confirmed it. Once I knew Joe was behind it, it seemed pretty obvious that he was getting back at both of us for refusing to go out with him."

"And the idiot thinks that _this_ will make us want to go out with him?" Shego shouted.

"Who the hell knows what he's thinking? He's probably just trying to humiliate us." Kim sighed. "Well, anyway, I just thought you might want to know. Sorry for intruding. Goo –"

"Wait!" Shego cried. "What are we going to do?"

"Wade's trying to get the ad down. Until then –"

"I mean what are we going to do about Joe," Shego growled.

Kim paused. "What do you mean? You're the one who made up the plan. We were talking about it last –"

Shego rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about," she said. "The plan that you said you would never consider under any circumstances."

"That's the one," Kim agreed. "Let's just say I've had a change of heart."

Shego laughed bitterly. "I thought Princess has too much integrity for these kind of shenanigans."

"Shut up," Kim said irritably.

"Oh, I get it," Shego sneered. "We get to lower our standards and morals if the guy is obnoxious enough.

"Look, don't start lecturing me," Kim said angrily. God! You try to do the girl a favor and she jumps down your throat! "You can only lower your standards if you've got them in the first place."

"Touche. So, bottom line – are you in, or am I going alone?"

"Oh, I am so in," Kim said in a low voice. "If you think I'm going to stand by while you take that jerk on your own, you are so wrong."

"You know, Kimmie, I just may have underestimated you," Shego said thoughtfully. "But I doubt it."

"Let's just talk about what we need to do," Kim said shortly. "We've got stuff to arrange."

------------------------------------------------------------------

"I still can't believe he fell for it!" Kim exclaimed.

Shego shrugged. "That's men for you," she said, lifting a dining room chair with ease and tossing it to the kitchen.

Kim began pushing Shego's sofas. "I think what convinced him was the fact that you showed up even though you weren't shooting," she said. "He assumed that you must have come in just to invite him over."

"Who cares what convinced him? He's convinced." Shego glanced at her watch. "He should be here in a few minutes. I think we've done all we can with this room."

Kim looked at the living room, which was now a large empty space in the middle of Shego's house. It was the first time she had ever been to Shego's house and she felt somewhat awkward. "I think it's okay," Kim said. "But he'll probably get suspicious when he walks in and sees that we've made enough room for Madison Square Garden."

"I guarantee you," Shego deadpanned, "his eyes will _not _be on the décor of my living room. There's only one room in this entire house that holds any interest for Joe."

"True," Kim agreed. She lifted an aerobic mat from the pile and spread across the floor. "I just hope that we're doing the right thing."

"Having second thoughts, Princess?"

"Yes," Kim said defensively, feeling her anger rising. "Having second thoughts is not a bad thing, Shego. You might want to try it more often. You might still have your dressing room."

"If I listened to my second thoughts," Shego snapped, "I wouldn't even _have _a dressing room. I wouldn't have gotten into the business at all."

"And that we might have never met each other," Kim said dryly. "Tragedy has been averted."

Shego glared at Kim, but remarkably decided not to say anything. They glared at each for a few more minutes, and then Kim sighed and turned away.

"I just hope we don't get into trouble with the studio," she said.

"What does the studio have to do with this?" Shego asked. "We're on my private property. If we get in trouble with anyone, it will be the police."

"How reassuring."

"Nah, as long as we're careful we have nothing to worry about."

The doorbell rang. Shego and Kim jumped, and for the first time Kim realized that for all her bravado, Shego was just as nervous as she was.

"You open the door," Kim hissed.

"Yoo-hoo!" Joe called from behind the door. "Ladies! Don Juan awaits!"

Shego groaned. "You know your list of reasons why this whole thing's a bad idea?" she asked Kim. "You've got a new one to add." Shego then strode to the door. She steeled herself for a moment, plastered a huge, phony smile on her face, and opened the door graciously.

"Joey!" Shego squealed. She flung her arms around his neck. "I'm so, so, glad you could make it!"

"We were so worried about you," Kim added effusively. She batted her eyelashes suggestively.

"My, don't you look _hand_some!" Shego gushed.

"I don't suppose those roses could be for _us,"_ Kim breathed.

Joe had the temerity to blush slightly. "Well, I felt I kind of owed you – on account of my little trick." He chuckled. "No hard feelings about that, right? I mean it was all in good fun –"

"Of course, Joey!" giggled Shego. "We know you and your jokes. So charming! Doesn't he have a wonderful sense of humor, Kimmie?"

"A regular barrel of laughs!" agreed Kim. "Shego, don't you _hate_ those men who never lighten up?"

"Abso_lute_ly," agreed Shego emphatically. "Besides, Joey, that trick of yours was so… _sexy."_

"Really?" asked Joe in grateful surprise. He did not seem to notice that Shego was gently pulling him towards the middle of the living room, or that the living room was entirely bare.

"Oh, for sure," Kim nodded eagerly. "I always admire the sort of man who never gives up. You knew we were just playing hard-to-get all those years, didn't you?"

"Well, you did make it pretty obvious," Joe said smugly.

"That little trick of yours was like a wake-up call for us," Shego said sweetly. "It made us realize just _how_ much we had hurt your poor feelings, playing hard-to-get all those years. That's when I called Kimmie here and told her that we just _must _let you know how we really felt all this time."

"Well," Joe said, "I won't say the past few years weren't a bit difficult, even though I knew you'd come around – "

"Oh, you _brave_ man!" Kim simpered. "How can we ever make it up to you?"

Joe smiled. "I can think of a several ways." He suddenly seized Kim by the shoulders and drew her close to him. "Shall we begin now?"

Kim tried to pull him gently, although she was overcome with revulsion at his touch. "No, no," she gasped. "Let's not get carried away so quickly, we, um…."

"We don't want you to lose all your respect for us," Shego finished. She took Joe's wrist and led him further into the room. Kim stealthily crept to the door and turned the lock. "Don't you want to have some juice or something to drink first?"

"I wouldn't mind something a bit stronger," Joe suggested.

"Why, Joe!" Kim exclaimed playfully. "I'm underage!"

Joe winked. "As long as you're over eighteen, we're safe for the most important part," he leered.

Shego walked into the kitchen to fetch juice. After a few moments of silence in Shego's absence, Joe suddenly looked down at his feet after noticing that the floor was not quite typical. He looked around the room slowly, as though taking in its emptiness for the first time. He gave Kim a quizzical look. Kim realized that they had carried their act as far as they could, dropped her ingratiating smile, and folded her arms firmly across their chest.

The sudden change in their demeanor was not lost on Joe. "Um, Kim," he asked in confusion, "why are the floors covered with mats?"

"Because, tempting as it may be, we don't want to actually kill you," Shego said sharply in her customary voice. "See, as far as I know, 'he was a total assohole' doesn't hold up in court."

Joe whirled around to face Shego. She was glaring at him fiercely. After a few moments of eye contact, Shego suddenly gave another sweet smile and offered Joe one of the mugs she was holding. "Cocoa moo?" she asked in a sugary voice.

"I'm trying to quit," Joe muttered. "Um, what's this with the –"

Instead of responding, Shego neatly grabbed Joe's wrist and flipped him over. Joe bellowed in shock and anger. He lay on the mat, glaring at Shego. He wasn't hurt – he was actually surprised how he had barely felt anything – but lying on a mat at a girl's feet was undoubtedly humiliating.

He tried to scramble to his feet, which was difficult on the surface of an aerobic mat. "What the hell – " he began ferociously, but Kim was too quick for him. She had grabbed his ankle and flicked her wrist so that Joe flew into the air, made a graceful 180 degree turn, and landed back on the mat.

"Cut this out!" Joe shouted. Shego ignored him and lifted Joe by the ankle as though her were a toy. She twirled him a few times like a lasso and let go; Joe flew into the air and backflipped a few times. Kim caught him easily by the wrist and flung him hard against the nearest wall, which was also padded heavily with a mat.

"Oof!" Joe grunted. He tried scrambling back to his feet again, but Shego knocked him down by aiming a swift roundhouse kick behind his knees.

"Had enough?" Shego sneered.

"Yes! God, yes!" Joe panted.

"So have we," said Kim. "Enough of your hooting, your wolf-whistling, your inappropriate comments – "

"Enough sexual harassment from you, in short," continued Shego.

Joe's face turned red. He was so overcome with rage that he couldn't speak for several minutes. "What the hell do you want from me?" he asked finally.

"First of all," Shego said sharply, "you are going to take down that ad. You are going to call every single one of those pervs who left messages on our cell phones and tell them to back off or else."

"You're going to stay away from us at work," Kim continued. "No jokes about anything related to our bodies in any way whatsoever."

"You are not to touch us," said Shego, "or make any comment on our appearance, or use any derogatory terms for females. Got that?"

Joe still couldn't speak. He tried to stand up, but Shego made sure that he couldn't.

"Fine," he seethed. "Damn broads can't take a joke..."

"You – you cad!" Kim screamed. "Didn't you hear a word we said?"

"Fine, fine, fine!" Joe held up his hands. "I get the point! I'll get out of your hair, all right? Just leave me alone!"

"If you break that promise," Shego snarled, "we will tell everyone at the studio that you got whupped by girls."

Now that was too much. Joe began to sputter angrily, but Shego ignored him. She pulled him up roughly and dragged him to the door, which she kicked open.

"My door's always open," she said, "so feel free to leave."

Joe tore his arm out of Shego's grip. His normally sneering face had transformed into an ugly mask of fury. His eyes flashed at Shego wildly, and for a brief moment Shego thought that he would either slap her or spit in her face. He opened his mouth to speak, and she instinctively clenched her fists.

Joe noticed the fists and snapped his mouth shut.

"Wow, an actual learning curve," said Shego dryly. "I'm impressed."

With one final glare at the pair of them, Joe stormed out the door. The two women let out deep breaths that neither of them realized that they had been holding. Shego then whirled around, caught Kim's eye, and the two burst out into relieved laughter, tension draining out of their bodies.

"WE DID IT!" Shego shouted excitedly, jumping in the air. Her face stretched by an extremely uncharacteristic grin. Kim hadn't seen Shego this happy since that time she saw her with Steve at the restaurant.

"That so rocked!" Kim shouted back, pumping her fists in the air. Without thinking, she threw her arms around Shego in a teetering hug. "You were AMAZING!"

"You weren't so bad yourself!" Shego crowed, squeezing Kim back. The two were giggling idiotically and still jumping around.

"Did you see that look on his face?"

"I wish we caught that on camera!"

"We could have uploaded it onto his myspace page!"

"Ha! I can't wait to tell Ron!"

"And Stevie – "

The two women suddenly froze in mid-hug. They looked up at each other and into the other's eyes, and felt themselves slowly being drawn towards each other, as though by magnetic force. Their lips just barely brushed against each other, and finally, after all those aching weeks they would throw caution to the winds and –

Without warning, they flung each other away violently and took several steps back, as though afraid that the other might attack. They stared at each other in horror, eyes open, as though seeing each other for the first time.

"Holy crap," Kim whispered. Her heart was pounding fiercely, and she was determinedly trying to ignore the sensation that had suddenly shot deep into her a stomach and lower.

"You can say that again," breathed Shego, not taking her eyes off of Kim.

"Holy crap."

"Okay, now that's just annoying," Shego said irritably.

"You think of a better line," Kim snapped.

Shego thought for a minute. "On second thought," she murmured, "'holy crap' works."

Kim hurriedly turned her face away. It didn't help. She still could see Shego's eyes, her smile, her lips, the brief moment when Shego had accidentally lowered her defenses long enough to become penetrable and human –

"I better go," Kim said abruptly. She quickly strode across the living room, found her bag wedged between two overturned chairs, and plucked it out. She stalked back to the door, trying her best to avoid looking at Shego, who was frozen to her spot and following Kim with her eyes.

Kim tentatively gripped the doorknob, then turned back to face Shego. "Of course," she said uncertainly, "if you need help rearranging the furniture –"

"No," Shego said in a dead voice. Her face was inscrutable. "I'm fine."

Kim hesitated, her hand still on the door.

"Just go, Kim," Shego said softly.

Kim dropped the doorknob as though it were hot

"What?" asked Shego.

"You called me Kim," Kim said simply.

"What else would I call you?" Shego tried her best to sound sarcastic but failed.

Kim didn't answer the question. She looked at Shego one final time, then turned the doorknob and stepped out into the night.

Shego watched the closed door. After a few minutes, she sighed and dropped to the floor, massaging her temples. She had no way of knowing that Kim was sitting in her parked car in reverie, no way of knowing Joe was stewing and plotting his revenge. All she knew was that her head was pounding, that she had bottles of Chardonnay and aspirin waiting for her in the kitchen, and that she had to fly with Stevie to Boca in the morning.

Damn.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry I haven't updated in a while – I was out of state on vacation. Hope you enjoy this chap!

Disclaimer: This chapter is much more Kim-centric than the others. Sorry, know there are lot of Shego fans out there. Don't worry, she'll get her turn!

CHAPTER SIX

Kim's dressing room felt strangely empty. She had gotten used to the alternating periods of stony silence and biting sarcasm that had inhabited the room for the last couple of weeks. Kim suddenly realized that she was sticking close to one corner of her room, as having grown accustomed to allowing Shego a wide berth.

Shego. Kim shuddered involuntarily. That woman's absence troubled Kim nearly as much as her presence. She had better grow used to that absence, though. In two weeks Shego would be returning from her filming hiatus, and by then her dressing room would be reinstated. Kim told herself firmly that this fact did not trouble her in the least. Shego was so not an issue, and she certainly had nothing to do with the conversation that she was planning to have with Ron that morning.

No, the convo with Ron was completed unrelated to how she felt – or rather, how she did not feel towards Shego. She had simply come to a mature conclusion, and by sheer coincidence the conclusion had reached her at around the same time Shego left for filming hiatus. No big.

Kim finished dressing and strode towards the film set with a confidence that she certainly did not feel. They were filming a scene that was supposed to take place in the Amazon rainforest, and a few brightly colored birds were chasing Rufus – was it Prime or II? – across the leafy floor.

"Lighting looks off," David's voice called. "Too much of a green cast."

An unseen hand made a slight adjustment, and the set was suddenly entirely bathed with a ghostly yellow light. A few of the grips snickered. The unseen hand made several more frantic attempts, and the set was alternately red, purple, and blue. A disco ball suddenly descended, and small circles of light whirled around the room.

David groaned. "Who the heck is supposed to be in charge of lighting?" he bellowed.

"Steve Atkins," Mark muttered. "I believe he's on hiatus."

Kim fought a smile and found her collapsible cloth-and-wood chair just off the set. It would be a while. Ron was sitting in his own chair next to her, but he was too preoccupied with cheering Rufus along to notice Kim's presence.

"Come on, buddy, fake them out!" he called. He groaned as Rufus attempted to outrun a bird and failed dismally.

"Maybe he should lay off the nachos," Kim said.

Ron suddenly turned to face Kim. "Oh, hey!" he smiled. The makeup team had not quite finished with him yet – his freckles had not yet been painted on, and he had one normal-looking ear and one protruding ear.

"Like the new look," Kim said.

"Yeah, well Glenn's taking over for Barkin, so they called him away while he was in middle of doing me."

"Glenn?" Kim laughed. "So that explains the disco ball."

"Ah, the disco ball," Ron said fondly. "Good times."

"The prom," Kim said softly.

"The prom," Ron agreed. He looked at Kim intently and slowly took her hand.

Kim's heart fell. "Ron – I – we need to talk," she faltered.

Ron nodded understandingly. "Yes," he said. "I think we do."

"This may sound strange, since lately I've acting kind of – um, kind of –"

"Affectionate?" Ron teased.

"Horny," Kim corrected with a smile.

"True that," Ron nodded. He instinctively reached to pat his cargo pocket, as though to be certain that they were quite alone, but suddenly seemed to remember that the pocket's usual occupant was running with the birds.

"Anyway," Kim said, "I think what I'm trying to say is that – I miss you."

Ron nodded. "I miss you too," he said seriously.

"I guess I haven't been that great of a girlfriend," Kim said ruefully.

"No, not at all!" Ron protested. "You've been a great girlfriend! You've even been – "

"Too much of a girlfriend?" Kim suggested. "Emphasis on 'girl' as opposed to 'friend'?"

"Something along those lines," Ron murmured. "Not that I minded exactly," he said hurriedly.

Kim placed her hand on Ron's arm. "Maybe not yet," she said. "But you would have, eventually. And probably sooner rather than later."

"Maybe," Ron said. "Maybe – we should take it easy for a while."

"I think that would be a good idea," Kim agreed. "Lay low, for some time." Seeing Ron's eyebrow lift, she laughed and said, "Not literally, of course."

Ron laughed back, and then leaned over and gave Kim a quick kiss on the cheek. She reciprocated by squeezing Ron's shoulder briefly. They turned to look at each other, and in that look were sadness and understanding and relief and regret and happiness and all things human.

"I'll always love you, Kim," he said.

"So will I," Kim answered, and she immediately knew this to be true, regardless of how she felt – or did not feel – towards Shego. That knowledge lifted her spirits a bit.

Kim and Ron sat in companionable silence for several minutes, still holding each other's hands, as the crew finished their rainforest. When the crew finished, they shot their scene, and the crewmembers couldn't help but notice that the dialogue between them was fresher and wittier than it had been all season.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Last time we met," Kim said, "You were trying to tell me about the Barkin sitch."

"Oh, that!" Ron turned to Monique and Wade, and the three erupted into paroxysms of laughter. Kim felt annoyed. "Feel ready to clue me in whenever you're ready," she said slightly irritably.

Kim listened as her friends interrupted each other in regaling Ron's latest altercation with Steve Atkins. The four of them were sitting at their usual table in the break room, eating their lunches. Several cameramen and camerawomen – camerapersons, Ron liked to call them – were sitting at the table next to them, and Kim was particularly pleased to notice that Joe was pointedly ignoring her. She was slightly surprised at how little her conscience bothered her about Joe's butt-kicking. It _had _been two-against-one, which wasn't exactly the most honorable way to go, but he was such an ass that it was hard to feel guilty. Kim tried mightily for a bit of remorse, but couldn't quite come up with enough.

After the four finished analyzing the Ron-Atkins sitch to the last drop, David suddenly burst into the breakroom. The room's occupants looked up in surprise. David usually ate his lunch in the executive dining room or at some nearby fancy restaurant.

David ignored the questioning glances. His eyes hunted for Kim, and they shortly found her. "Reilly, my office," he said abruptly, then stalked out the door.

Kim felt a stab of nervousness, and her friend glanced at her worriedly. David hardly ever used their real last names – he liked the actors to remain in character as much as possible, pun intended – and would only do so in moments of supreme irritation.

Kim extricated herself from the table as nonchalantly as possible, trying to ignore her friends' expressions of doom.

"Good luck, girlfriend," Monique told her.

Kim shrugged. "No big," she said.

"If you don't come out in twenty minutes, we'll come in after you," Ron said seriously, although Kim suspected he was in jest. At least partially.

She rolled her eyes. "So not the drama, Ron!" she said, and strode out of the breakroom after David.

Kim's heart fluttered nervously as she ambled through the corridors. David was already far ahead of her, and she made no attempt to catch up to him. Kim had only agreed to this whole thing with Joe once Shego had convinced her that they couldn't possibly get into any trouble. David couldn't get them in trouble with the studio, could he? He had no control over what happened at Shego's house. And Shego swore up and down that he couldn't get the police involved as long as they didn't cause Joe to bruise or bleed, and as long they didn't use any objects other than their own bodies. They hadn't actually _hurt _Joe, had they?

Kim suddenly felt herself grow angry. No wonder Shego had insisted that they whup Joe right away! With Shego on hiatus, Kim would have to face the rap alone. Shego couldn't wait till she was back, could she? How typical! And just when Kim thought that they might become something like friends – or more –

Kim quickly banished the thought. She had reached David's office, which he left open for her, and strode purposefully into the chair opposite his desk. He sat behind the desk glaring at her, looking as intimidating as he knew how. Kim glared back at him defiantly, as though daring him to say something, anything. _Just so that he remembers who around here knows all that Kung Fu. _

After several seconds worth of a staring contest, David finally cleared his throat. "So, Kim," he said evenly, apparently trying to sound warm and fatherly. He didn't. "How are things?"

"Fine," she responded shortly.

"I heard about you and Ron breaking up," he said.

Kim shot up in surprise. "Howe the heck did you hear about – "

"I didn't," David said brusquely. "Lucky guess, which you just confirmed. Remind me that we have to work on your press statement later."

Kim felt blood rushing to her face. The vein in her right temple throbbed furiously. The nerve! This was a new low, even for David.

"I fail to see how any of this is your business," she said icily, her teeth clenched. She started to rise.

"Sit down," David ordered. "I'll show you why it's very much my business." He pulled a manila envelope from a drawer and tossed it towards Kim.

With a deep sense of foreboding, Kim slit the envelope open with a fingernail and shook some of the contents into her lap. She took a brief look at the first photo that landed and instinctively jumped up with a yelp.

"My GOD!" she shouted. Her eyes grew wide, and she stared at David. She felt too shocked to even feel angry. "Where the heck did this come from?"

"A little present someone left on my desk, anonymously," David said, his lips pursed.

Kim felt her heart land with a thud. _Joe. _

"Don't tell me you're taking these seriously!" she cried, slightly panicking.

"They tell me that Photoshop is capable of wonders," David said dryly.

"That's one way of putting it!" Kim exclaimed.

"So you're denying the authenticity of these photos?"

"Of course I am!" Kim said hotly. "How can you even think that they could be real?" How dare he! How could David even entertain the notion, much less suggest it aloud, that she, Kim Reilly or Kim Possible or whoever she was, would ever have anything to do with something so sleazy?

"And what about the message of these photos?"

Kim felt her cheeks warm. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked quietly, clenching her fists tightly. She had to restrain herself. She had to!

"I'll be blunt with you," David said.

"Because you've been everything but till now," Kim said bitterly.

"Are you and Shego having an affair?"

Even though Kim suspected that David was about to ask this question, she nevertheless felt shocked when he actually asked it. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide enough to see the whites all the way around. Her face grew white, and her heart pounded heavily. She couldn't bring herself to speak. After only a few seconds, however, her shock and panic gave way to anger. How dare he ask her such a question? Even if it WAS true – which it wasn't – even if they HAD been having an affair – which they weren't – it was certainly no business of David's, and he had no right to ask her such a personal question. Her life was her life, for goodness sake. If she wanted to have an affair with Shego – which she didn't – she would go right ahead and have one – which she wouldn't.

"You haven't answered the question," David prompted.

Kim found her voice. "You have a lot of nerve," she said coldly, surprise by how calm and quiet she sounded. "Instead of throwing these pictures into the garbade where they belong, you think you have the right to not only make assumptions but the ascertain their vailidity. You have absolutely no right to pry into my personal affairs, and I have no intention whatsoever in satisfying your curiosity one way or another."

"I have _every_ right to pry into your personal affairs," David said loudly, "and this has nothing to do with satisfying my curiosity. But I will not have you be the cause of scandal! I will not have the show cancelled because of you!"

"The show already HAS been cancelled!" Kim burst out.

David rolled his eyes. "For the second time," he said. "If it has been cancelled for the second time, it can be cancelled for the third and the fourth and the fifth."

Kim started to get up again. "My personal life has nothing to do with whether or not the network cancels the cancellation," she said firmly. "And this conversation is over." She rose.

"Sit down!" barked David.

Kim ignored him and strode towards the door.

"I said, SIT DOWN!" David shouted.

Kim hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand on the doorknob and turned.

"I said, sit your ass DOWN or I'll BUST IT OFF for you!"

Kim paused, her blood frothing. She turned back to David and glared at him. "Not bloody likely," she told him frostily. She was not exactly afraid of David – if he would lay a hand on her she would bust _his _ass off – but instinct told her not to leave the room. David had never quite shouted at her that way before. She had heard him shout at Shego that way – Shego would shout right back at him, of course – but Kim usually did not need to be shouted at more than once.

Kim and David continued to glare at each. Kim no longer was leaving, but she was not sitting, either. "Sit down," David repeated, a bit more calmly. Kim slowly sauntered to her seat, her eyes still fixed defiantly on David's, determined not to let on that she felt unnerved.

"Do you have any idea what would happen to the reputation of this show, of this company, of _you,_ if the public would find out that you and Shego are having an affair?"

"You're just speculating that we're having an affair," Kim retorted.

"Well, are you?"

"I choose not to answer that."

David slammed his fist against the desk, and Kim jumped involuntarily. "Don't you feel any sense of responsibility?" he demanded. "Do you feel no sense of _gratitude _towards Kim Possible?"

"Of course I'm grateful to Kim Possible, but I don't owe her my life!" Kim burst out.

"Of course you do!" David spat. "You owe Kim Possible everything you have, everything you know! There is not a single thought in your head that does not belong to Kim Possible!"

"Kim Possible does not own my body or my mind!" Kim shouted.

David laughed bitterly again. "You fool!" he spat. "Of course Kim Possible does not own your body or your mind. I do!"

"How – how – how DARE YOU!" Kim sputtered. She was trembling with rage. Never – NEVER! – did she know that she was capable of feeling such anger and hatred towards any living being. Never! The only person she might – just might – hate as much as David was Kim Possible herself.

"Every thought in your head is mine," David repeated. "All these years you and Shego hated each other – because I decided that Kim Possible and Shego would hate each other! Then you fell in love with Ron – you think that was your decision? It was because I had written it into the script! You and Kim Possible have become so intertwined that you have no way of knowing where one ends and the other begins!"

"So you've been playing with me, like one of your characters!"

"Don't you get it? You ARE one of my characters! You think that you can start thinking for yourself now, after all those years I've made all the decisions for you? I OWN you, for crying out loud! I own you the way I own Kim Possible."

"Kim Possible is a fictional character!" Kim thundered. "You can't own me the way you do her!"

"That's what you think!" David retorted. "Kim Possible _used_ to be a fictional character. Until I created her! I gave her life! I gave her _your _life! She is real now, just as real as you are, if not more so!"

"You're SICK!" Kim shouted. In reality she felt as though she was the one who would be sick. Her stomach felt queasy, and her throat felt dry and scratchy from all the screaming. Her head was spinning, and tears threatened to burst forth from her eyes. "You're a sick man, a sick, sick megalomaniac – "

David interrupted Kim by slapping her fiercely across her face. Kim teetered over before grabbing the arms of her chair and righting herself.

"Now you listen to me, you little bi – "

Kim roared and pounced on David without thinking. She was not fueled by thought but by fury, sheer fury and hatred, and she flung her fists towards that evil face –

In a shocking move, David grabbed her wrists and wrenched her down towards the desk. Kim cried out as her nose slammed against the desk, and struggled mightily to loosen her wrists. To her great surprise, she found herself unable to free herself from David's gasp.

David pulled Kim's wrists up in order to lift her head high enough to face him. "You'll find that you and Shego are not the only Kung Fu champions," he sneered icily.

"Let – me – go!" Kim gasped, mightily twisting her shoulders in effort to wrangle her wrists out of David's hands. It was hopeless – he was shockingly strong, perhaps even stronger than Shego. Blood was pounding in her ears, and static seemed to crackle in her jaw where David's hand had made contact. He had shocked her by slapping her like that, and that momentary shock cost her precious seconds of reaction time. This would have never happened to Shego, Kim thought bitterly, trying to ignore the throbbing on her lower right cheek. Shego was ready for everything and everyone. She would have not allowed David to surprise her like that, and she would never have found herself trapped in this ridiculous position on his desk. David may have been surprisingly strong, but he didn't move nearly as smoothly or as gracefully as Shego. Good technique could always beat brute strength.

"I'll let you go as soon as you hear me out, you spoiled brat," David growled. His eyes were devoid of all compassion and humanity, and Kim stopped struggling. "You obviously couldn't care less about the show, but do you have any idea of what would happen to _you _if you started canoodling with Shego?"

"My Kim Possible contract wouldn't get renewed," Kim growled. "And we might never see each other again. How tragic."

"Forget your Kim Possible contract," David leered. "No one at Disney will ever hire you again."

"Shame."

"You fool!" David spat. "Do you think you have any chance of a career without Disney?"

"Plenty of people have a career after Disney!" Kim exclaimed.

"Not former child stars!" David laughed nastily. "No one in the industry will take you seriously. Think of Cheryl Toggle and Gene Smyrnoff - they never graduated Disney, did they?."

"Hannah Liszter did," Kim retorted.

David laughed again. "Hannah's ten times prettier than you are," he said ruthlessly. "Face it, Kim. Without Disney, you're history. Trust me: you lose Disney, and you'll be a has-been. The former child star who everyone said would have great potential but then vanished into the dusk. No one will ever remember your name."

Kim twitched angrily in David's arms. "It may come as a surprise to you," she said coldly, "but some of us have dreams _other _than becoming rich and famous."

"Easy for you to say – you've been both since you were fifteen," David barked.

"Right, I'm just a spoiled brat and a diva who doesn't know how good she has it," Kim said coldly. "Heard it all before. Will you let me go now?"

David thought for a few moments. He finally threw Kim's fists down towards the table, and she scrambled off of it. She smoothed her clothes as best as she could, gave him the haughtiest and most dignified look she could muster, and then leaned over and slapped David hard across his face. Before he had a chance to react, she had darted out the door, flew down the corridor, and headed for the parking lot.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shego lay morosely on her living room couch. Her packed suitcase sat near her, ready for travel, although she and Steve were not set to fly for another six hours or so. She had packed and repacked that suitcase – most uncharacteristically, for her – but it had not provided enough distraction. She had not succeeded in banishing the thoughts of Stevie and Kim from her head.

She heard a car screeching towards the pavement near her house. Probably Stevie coming to take her for a surprise lunch date. She started to slide off the couch to let him in when she heard the door slam and feet pounding on the pavement.

Those feet were far too light to be Steve's.

Shego groaned. Not her! Not now!

The light feet pounded on the pavement and up her steps, and a pair of light fists banged against her door with surprising ferocity.

"Shego!"

Shego growled and headed for her bedroom. The nerve! The brat knew that she was going with Steve to Boca today! What the hell was she trying to do – confuse her even more? Not that there was anything to really be confused over.

"Shego, open this door! I know you're in there!"

"Go away!" Shego shouted.

"I won't!" the voice cried stubbornly. "Open this door and let me in!"

"Get the hell out of here!" Shego shouted bitterly. "Haven't you messed up my life enough as it is?"

"Don't give me that crap, Shego! Open this freakin' door! NOW!"

"Beat it, Princess! I'm not interested!"

"I'm going to break down this door!"

Shego laughed again. "Go ahead and try it."

"You know I could do it," the voice warned behind the door.

Shego hesitated. "You probably could," she mused.

"Here goes!" Kim barked. She shoved her shoulder into the door like a battering ram, and Shego actually saw the door vibrating.

"Do you have any idea how much I PAID for that new varnish?" Shego shouted, rushing towards the door. She twisted the door open just as Kim was beginning her second attempt at ramming the door open. Kim lost her balance and rammed her shoulder into Shego's chest instead.

Cursing under her breath, Shego held Kim up and straightened her up. Kim regained her composure as best as she could as Shego crossed her arms across her chest. "Now, what the hell was so important that it couldn't wait till I got ba-"

Kim fiercely pulled Shego towards her by the hips and kissed her forcefully on the mouth. Shego, aghast, tried mightily to wrench herself away, but Kim held on to her unyieldingly. After a brief moment Shego held herself limp and ceased struggling, and after another moment she flung her arms around Kim's neck. They remained locked in a fierce lip-clench for several minutes, neither of them aware of the world around them, of the living room with the suitcases, of the open door and the passing cars, of the studio or ratings or flights or condos or anything else. Shego felt her fingers slowly rise into Kim's hair and onto her temples, and kissed Kim fully and passionately and furiously. Shego's heart pounded heavily in her chest again, but this time the sensation was not at all that bad. The mountain of doubt and insecurity began to slowly melt away.

After several long minutes, the two women slowly pulled apart. Kim glared fiercely into Shego's eyes, as though daring her to say something. Shego glared back more playfully, a small smirk playing at her lips.

Kim's gaze remained firm and hard for a few more minutes, and then slowly began fizzling in their resolve. Shego watched Kim's blazing eyes suddenly grow wide and panicky, while feeling her own eyes grow more steely and determined. Shego continued to watch Kim's eyes as it became apparent that those eyes were slowly grasping the full meaning of what had just happened.

"Oh my God," Kim gasped, staring at Shego in sudden panic. "What did we just do?"

"Who the hell cares?" Shego asks casually. Without thinking, she pulled Kim roughly her by the shirt thtough the door, kicked the door behind her close, and the two women slowly melted back into each others' arms and lips.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey - sorry, I know it's been a while since I've been updated, but I've been crazy-busy with school and work. The good news is that Chapter 8 should be up shortly (because 7 and 8 were originally planned as one document) - so stay tuned! Hope y'all like!

CHAPTER SEVEN

Shego assumed that she was feeling guilty. Naturally she could not be quite sure if what she was feeling was guilt, because it had been several years she had experienced such an emotion. She would have to ask Kim about it. That kid was always feeling guilty about something, so she ought to know the symptoms.

Come to think of it, Kim ought to feel guilty about this whole thing; she was the one that came barging down Shego's door in the first place, wasn't she? So if she was always feeling guilty anyway, she may as well feel guilty right now. That would take the pressure off of Shego.

Shego sighed imperceptibly, stirring her drink in silence. She had made it clear to Stevie that this trip carried no obligations or expectations whatsoever. They slept in separate condos for both nights that they had been here. They spent the day swimming and playing tennis– things that friends did together all the time. They did nothing that connoted dating status. So there was nothing to feel guilty about.

"Ah, I'm still here," Steve said suddenly, interrupting Shego's reverie.

_Tell me about it. _

Steve looked at Shego carefully. "Shego," he barked, "I've been meaning to ask you…"

_Oh crap. _

Steve cleared his throat, then pounded his chest slightly. "Ah, at what point," he asked in his customary slow, deep voice, "do two people go from 'dating' to… an actual couple?" He winced slightly, as though it pained him to discuss such touchy-feely topics.

Shego's heart sank. She had been expecting Steve to ask something along those lines. For the last half hour, she had been stirring her drink in guilty silence – no, not guilty, there was nothing to feel guilty about – and avoiding eye contact, which generally did not bode well for relationships.

Shego did her best to affect a nonchalant tone. "We're talking hypothetically, right?"

"Let's just say that we are… for now," Steve drawled.

"Well, um, as long as we stay hypothetical," Shego said, "then I guess…" Damn. This was even harder than she thought. She didn't do too well with touchy-feely speeches either. She cleared her throat. "Well, sometimes people know that they like each other. But then they – they're not sure _how_ exactly they like that person, and that can – that can get confusing for both people."

Shego snuck a glance at Steve, hoping that he would say something. No such luck. Steve was waiting expectantly for her to continue.

"And sometimes," Shego continued, cursing herself vociferously, "people really like someone, and they're not sure if they like that person as a boyfriend, or a friend, or as a big brother they never had. But they're afraid to start seeing other people – because that person means so much to them. Even though they know, deep down, that maybe they – they should cool things down, a little, for a while."

"That happens sometimes," Steve said in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Shego mumbled. "Hypothetically, of course."

"Hypothetically," Steve repeated hollowly. He looked miserable.

Shego felt her heart twist. "Steve," she said hurriedly, "I didn't mea–"

Stevie rested his hand on Shego arm, and Shego fell silent.

"It's okay," Steve said stiffly. "I understand." He suddenly sat up very straight, jutted his chin out, and said in his most formal and authoritative voice, "And for your information, Miss Gomez, I would be honored if you thought of me as a friend or a big brother."

-------------------------------------

Shego gritted her teeth as she gripped the steering wheel. "Let's get this straight, Kimmie," she growled, "We're professionals. No lovey dovey stuff in front of people, okay? Don't embarrass me."

Kim rolled her eyes, but Shego's eyes were thankfully on the road, so she missed it. It was Shego's first day back from her filming hiatus, and it seemed to them both that it was going to be a very long day.

Shego had been home for over a week, and she and Kim had spent a few hours together daily since she got back. They had grudgingly admitted to one another that they were in a _relationship, _although they had avoided discussing the matter much further. Apparently Shego was now choosing to set some ground rules.

"And don't expect anything to change between us on the set," Shego said warningly. "We are going to treat each other as we have always."

"Of course," Kim drawled, "Naturally I didn't expect you to start acting civil towards me."

The light had turned red, so Shego turned to Kim and glared. "Very funny," she snapped irritably.

"Hey, ease up, will you?" Kim said lightly. "This is no big."

Shego sighed in exasperation. That kid was no naïve sometimes!

"Don't you get it?" she snapped. "No one can know about this till the end of the season. Unless you want your entire private life to become tabloid fodder."

"No one will find out about us," Kim rolled her eyes again. "This kind of relationship is the easiest to hide from people."

"Oh, really?" Shego asked skeptically. The light changed again, and Shego sped off abruptly.

"When people see two girls giggling over a soda or coffee," Kim explained patiently, "people assume that they're gossiping over guys or some other girl talk. Nobody suspects that there's anything between them."

Shego grunted, which Kim took to mean that she was considering the idea.

"People see a guy and girl together, however," Kim continued, "and they start blabbing. Nobody would think that it's platonic."

"Okay, so maybe you have a point," Shego conceded grudgingly. "But I don't want to take any chances on the set."

Kim sat in silence for a few moments. "You won't be able to hide this from Steve forever, Shego," she finally said quietly.

Shego's hands twitched almost imperceptibly.

"This is not about Steve," she said stiffly. "I just don't want to get sued by the studio, okay?"

Kim laughed. "Sued by the studio. That would be funny."

"You have a strange sense of humor," Shego mumbled.

"No, seriously!" Kim giggled. "I mean, just imagine the look on David's face if he heard – "

The car came to a screeching halt. Kim yelled as she grasped the dashboard as Shego swerved sharply, pulling up to the sidewalk.

"What is your problem?" Kim shouted.

Shego was glaring at Kim fiercely. "Is that what this whole thing about?" she demanded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Is that all this is to you?" Shego shouted, her voice trembling in anger. "Some stupid – tactic of getting even with David over some beef you've had?"

"No!" Kim protested loudly. "Shego –"

"If you think I'm going to risk my career over some stupid post-teenage rebellion –"

"That's not what this is!" Kim said quickly.

"Oh, _really_?" Shego asked sarcastically. "So what exactly happened in the studio last week that sent you running off to my apartment? You had a conversation with David, didn't you?"

Kim swallowed. "Yes, I did," she said calmly. She looked at Shego defiantly, and detected a small glint of doubt and insecurity in those blazing green eyes. "But that's not why I went to see you."

Shego snatched her keys out of the ignition and crossed her arms firmly across her chest. "You better start talking quickly," she growled, "or you can walk the rest of the way."

Kim took a deep breath. "Okay, so David called me into his office, asking some questions about us –"

"What exactly tipped him off?"

"Apparently Joe got creative with Photoshop."

Shego cursed under her breath. "I'm going to kill him," she snarled. "I am seriously going to kill him."

"David wouldn't leave me alone," Kim continued, ignoring Shego's outburst, "and I knew that the easiest way to shut him up would be to tell us that we weren't involved – and we weren't, at that point – but – I couldn't bring myself to deny it."

"Hmmph," Shego mumbled. Her arms were still folded tightly, but her features had softened slightly.

"Don't you get it?" Kim said softly. "Talking to David didn't just make me feel rebellious… it made me confront myself and realize how I really felt about you."

"Pfft… whatever," Shego sniffed, but Kim detected the smallest sign of a smile at the corner of her mouth. She wordlessly jammed her keys back into the ignition and revved her car.

"Don't forget to signal," Kim muttered as Shego pulled out. Shego ignored her and sped her car away from the corner without signaling. Kim managed to grab the door handle seconds before being tossed out of her seat.

They rode in silence for several moments. After careful consideration, Kim spoke. "You really do need to lighten up."

Shego didn't answer.

"If this is going to work, you're going have to be more secure with yourself."

Shego bristled. "There is nothing wrong with my self-esteem, Miss Priss –"

"Trust me, I never thought the problem was with your esteem," Kim muttered. "But you can't get into a freak every time you have a doubt about us. You're going to have to trust me a bit more."

Kim and Shego fell back into silence for several blocks. Minutes away from the studio, Shego finally spoke.

"I've been burned before."

"So I've guessed," Kim replied. "I'm sure you've had it tough."

Shego didn't say anything.

Kim counted to ten under her breath. "You can tell me about it," she offered tentatively.

"Um, yeeeaaah," Shego said sarcastically. "Let's just wait till we get to the studio so I can lie on the couch. Or do you prefer using the brain tap machine?"

"Are you always this difficult?" Kim snapped.

"Pretty much."

"So you never take that armor off?"

Shego scoffed. "I sleep in it."

"So I've noticed," Kim said wryly. "And just what are you trying to prove with it, exactly?"

"If I told you," Shego said disdainfully, "that would kinda defeat the purpose, dontcha think?"

--------------------------

"Aaaaand… cut!"

"Great job, guys!" Mark called bracingly. "Very realistic-looking."

"Very realistic-feeling, too," Ron mumbled, massaging his lower back.

Drakken groaned and he rubbed the back of his neck, smudging some of the blue face paint. "You can have the disposable ice-pack when I'm done."

"Aw, thanks, buddy," Ron said gratefully.

Kim and Shego caught each other's eye briefly and smiled. It was a moment that was unfortunately spotted by David, who frowned and cleared his throat.

"Be back in an hour," he grumbled to the set in general.

Chatting amiably, the members of the cast and crew slowly floated off the set, making their way to the break room for a lunch break. Kim and Monique were engrossed in conversation about the latest Banana Republic sale when David suddenly crept up behind Kim and tapped her shoulder.

"Er, Kim," he mumbled, glancing sideways at Monique. "Can you step into my office?"

Kim glared at David with withering scorn. "Alone? Yeah right," she said disdainfully. She turned back around and continued talking to Monique.

"Just for a few minutes," David persisted.

"Anything that you have to say to me, you can say right here," Kim said coldly, still not facing David.

David looked quite annoyed. No one noticed that Shego was lagging behind them, stealthily lurking in the shadows.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize," David muttered quickly.

"Save it," Kim snapped.

"I know that I over-reacted a little last week," David continued in a rush.

Kim stopped walking and turned to face David incredulously. "A little?"

Monique, sensing some sensitive information, mumbled to Kim, "Catch you later, girl." She jogged ahead to join Ron and Drakken.

"I shouldn't have roughed you up," David continued. "I kind of lost my temper."

"Yeah," Kim agreed dryly. "Kind of."

"Look, Kim, try to see where I'm coming from," David said earnestly. "I've had a series of flops as long as the Amazon before making this show. Kim Possible is my first hit, and well – I don't know if I'll ever get an opportunity like this again. This is my legacy, know what I mean?"

"All too well."

"So I'm sorry if I was a little too possessive over it, or over you," David continued. "I didn't mean to lose control."

Kim glared at David coldly. Was this guy for real? "You can get off your high horse," she said frostily. "You're just trying to make nice because you want to be sure that I'd be willing to renew my contract for another season." Without another word, Kim whirled around and stalked off, jogging to catch up to Monique.

David watched Kim storm away with his mouth slightly open.

"I _beg_ your pardon," Shego suddenly said sweetly, startling David.

"Jesus, Shego, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I _beg_ your pardon," Shego repeated as she slowly slunk out of the shadows. "That would be quite a loss to the artistic community, would it not?"

"What do you want, Shego?" David snarled.

Shego smiled sweetly as she slithered up to David, who couldn't help backing away slightly.

"I just couldn't _help _but overhear that little conversation between you and Kim," Shego said in a honeyed voice.

"Bet you could," David muttered.

"And I couldn't _help _but overhear," Shego continued, ignoring David, "that you mentioned something about – er, I believe your term was 'roughing up'?"

David colored fiercely. "And why exactly is this any of your business?"

"Oh, no reason," Shego said lightly.

It took two weeks for David's swollen nose to return to its original size.

----------------

The nice thing about trying to keep a relationship secret, Kim thought to herself that night, is that you force yourself to spend time with your other friends. You were encouraged not to become too enmeshed with your – lover? Partner? – and maintain a separate identity. It was healthy to spend time with old friend. Not to mention that it was kind of a requirement in this case, because it would look kind of suspicious for two sworn enemies to suddenly be spending all their free time together.

Kim and Shego had both spent the afternoon with respective friends – Kim lounged in Taco Bell with Monique and Ron, Shego in Starbucks with Steve and Drakken – and only met each other at about ten o'clock. They were at Kim's place, for a change. The TV was on, playing some stupid sitcom, but neither paid it much attention. Kim's head was in Shego's lap, and Shego was absent-mindedly stroking Kim's hair.

After about half an hour of Shego's silence, Kim spoke up. "You're a million miles away," Kim said. "Still re-living the David-bashing?"

"Must be," Shego mumbled absently.

"That was a sweet right hook," Kim murmured.

"Thanks," Shego said, not quite looking in Kim's direction.

Kim waited another few minutes.

"Penny for your thoughts," Kim finally murmured.

Shego shook herself awake. "Meh – I've gotten better offers."

"During a recession?"

"Shut up," Shego said with a small smile.

"Come on, there's something's on your mind," Kim insisted.

"Is that so hard for you to relate to?"

"Nice to know that some things never change," Kim said, rolling her eyes.

"You should really stop doing that, Kimmie-cub," Shego said with false concern. "They might get stuck that way."

"That would be too bad," Kim said slyly. "I'll be forced to stare into your face for the rest of my life."

"Good one," Shego said appreciatively.

"Thanks. I try."

"Yeah, a little too hard, actually."

"You're digressing. There's something on your mind, so spill."

"You really don't know when to drop it, do you?"

"Not really."

Shego sighed. "I've been thinking about something you said this morning."

"I said a lot of things this morning."

"About my armor."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that," Shego said dryly. "You wanted to know why I never took it off."

"Yeah, you sleep in it."

Shego paused. "Do you want to know why?" she asked in a would-be casual voice.

Kim suddenly sat up, banging her head into Shego's chest along the way.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Kim mumbled, rubbing the top of her head.

"You should be," Shego mumbled, rubbing her chest. "Really, Kim, if you're that eager you could just ask nicely –"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, woman!"

Shego smirked.

"It has good company in the gutter," she purred.

"Now we're both digressing."

Shego's smirk fell.

"So you really want to know," she said. It was not a question.

"If you want to talk about it."

"The whole story, or the Cliffs notes?"

"Either or." Kim smiled mischievously. "Just don't make it _too_ long."

"Ugh," Shego said. "See what I mean? Gutter."

"Digressing, yet again. "

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"I'm listening to you," Kim said.

"Are you?" Shego asked in a surprisingly innocent voice. Kim sobered instantly, and looked at Shego in surprise. She suddenly looked very young, and very vulnerable.

"Of course I am," Kim said seriously.

Shego hesitated. She appeared to be struggling with herself. Kim recognized the look; she was desperate to share something with Kim – she had probably been burning to talk from the moment that they first kissed, maybe even before that. And yet – she didn't want to talk at all, she wanted to keep her life private, she still wanted to hold on to some secrets…

Kim held Shego's hand. She looked deep into Shego's eyes, and in that instant she saw Shego's whole life, her joys and frustrations, and she knew that Shego would let her see inside.

"You can talk to me," Kim whispered. "Let me in. Don't resist me."

Shego didn't answer right away.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Shego pressed her hands to her temples, as though to contain the memories threatening to burst out of her skull. The memories all vied for her attention, and Shego's head was spinning, uncertain to which memory to attend first. She wished she could shove the memories back in, back into the deep recesses of her mind, where they had been buried for so long. But the memories were clamoring for release, and Kim was on the couch beside her, waiting.

"Don't be afraid," Kim said softly, placing a hand on Shego's.

Shego moaned softly. The memories… they were suddenly so vivid… she was back in college… she could see everything, feel everything, hear everything, exactly as it had been…

-------------------------------

"Bathsheba Gomez-Goldstein?"

The class erupted into small twitters. A few heads turned to the girl in the back corner, hunched over her notebook, her hair covering her face.

"H-h-here," the girl mumbled, not looking up.

The professor paused for a moment. "Is there… a different name you would prefer to be called?"

The girl shrugged morosely. She was used to that question. "Sheba G-g-gomez," she muttered quietly, cursing her parents silently.

Sheba determinedly kept her head down so that no one would notice her beet red face. It helped to sit in the back corner – no one ever noticed you there. Then again, no one really ever noticed her anywhere. Why did she expect her first day of college to be any different than elementary or high school?

Of course, she was not exactly the same as she had been in high school. Over the summer, Sheba had the uncomfortable sensation that her body was no longer quite the same shape as it had been. Her sweaters started to get a big snug in the top, her skirts and pants hung strangely around the hips, and the seat of her pants – well, she wouldn't even think about it. It was all too mortifying.

Although she never looked up, Sheba paid close attention to the professor and took meticulous notes. Her grade point average was the only area of her life that wasn't completely messed up. Not yet, at least. At the rate she was going, she'd probably screw up her grades next.

Damn – the professor was writing on the board. Now Sheba would have to look up if she wanted to follow the lecture. She jerked her head up sharply, taking care that her veil of hair was still obstructing her face. But in that one moment – the briefest moment as her hair was shifting into proper place – she noticed _him. _And he was looking _at her. _

Sheba's heart pounded as she tried to ignore the boy's gaze. He was huge – broad, muscular, and hairy, and a good ten or fifteen years older than most of the students. He looked like he might have either been a football player or a pro-wrestler. He was gazing at her saucily, knowingly, as though he knew something that she didn't, as though – as though she were doing something _dirty. _It was a horribly creepy feeling that completely unnerved her. At yet – she was somewhat intrigued. Why the hell would a guy like want to look at her? Why would anyone want to look at her?

As the professor dismissed the class, Sheba made a beeline for the door, hoping to avoid Creepy Guy. He was too fast for her.

"Hey, sexy," he drawled, suddenly placing his hand on her shoulder.

Sheba froze momentarily.

"E-e-xcuse me," she said lamely, pulling her jacket tightly around her.

"Hey, babe, you don't get away from me so easily," he said with a grin.

Sheba kept her eyes fixed on the floor so that he wouldn't see the fear in her eyes. This guy was huge, and could probably break her like a twig.

"I h-h-have to get to class," she mumbled. It was probably the longest sentence she had uttered since she got to college.

"Cool," Giant said. "Let me give you a lift, babe."

"N-n-n-o, it's okay, really…" Sheba stammered.

Giant folded his arms. "Babe, I insist. Seriously."

Sheba hesitated. This guy was intimidating, and was probably bad news. And yet – she couldn't help feeling somewhat – what was that feeling? Flattered? No one had ever flattered her before. No one had ever looked at her before. And he wasn't exactly the kind of guy who you could say no to easily…

"Okay," Sheba mumbled to the floor. "You can take me. J-j-just this once."

--------------------------------------------

"But I don't feel c-c-c-comfortable with that idea," Sheba mumbled.

"Oh, come on! Thanksgiving break, babe! We have to go away somewhere. It's, like, the law. Seriously."

"But I d-d-don't think it's a good idea," Sheba murmured.

"Babe, I've got to show my girl off! And in a bikini – yeahhoooww!"

Sheba blushed, squirming slightly. She hated it when she felt creeped out and flattered at the same time. But this time she wouldn't give in.

"Look," she said, trying to sound firm and less mousy than usual, "I don't like it. I d-d-d-don't like wearing a bathing suit in p-p-public, and I don't feel right about staying alone in a hotel with a guy."

"Babe, I'm not _a guy_! I'm _your guy!"_

"I don't f-f-f-feel okay with it."

He frowned in annoyance. "Look, babe, I say we go, and the dude gets to decide!"

"No!" Sheba suddenly cried out, surprising both of them. She wasn't used to losing her temper, but this was ridiculous. She was not going to put up with this anymore! "That's not true! You're not the boss of me, so stop telling me what to do!"

It happened so quickly that Sheba couldn't quite remember how it happened. All she knew that she was suddenly sprawled awkwardly on the kitchen floor, her jaw stinging, warm blood oozing out of her mouth.

This couldn't be happening. No way. Not to her. This wasn't real. It was a nightmare. She was going to wake up and find herself back in her parents' home in the Bronx. She was not on the floor, all alone with the man who put her there. She was just _not. _

Sheba slowly shifted herself into a slightly more graceful position. She lifted her head to face her boyfriend's face, hoping to find some answers in it, some explanation. Anything. But there was none. He seemed almost as stunned as she was.

"Oh my god," he whispered.

Sheba didn't trust herself to speak. She felt ready to vomit. .

"Sheba," he breathed, "My god. I'm so sorry, babe. I didn't mean it. Really, you know I didn't mean it."

Tears began streaming down Sheba's face.

"Sheba," he implored, kneeling on the floor beside her, tears beginning to stream down his own face. "You know I didn't mean it, babe. I just meant to give you a playful shove, that's all. You know me: sometimes I forget how strong I am. And there you, just a little thing – come on, Sheba, you know I didn't do it on purpose, don't you?"

"I d-d-d-don't know," Sheba whispered

"Come on, Sheba!" he cried. He buried his face in his hands. "Oh, my god, I am such a jerk. I finally meet the girl of my dreams, the best girlfriend in the world, and then – god. I'm such an idiot." His face still buried in his hands, his shoulders began to heave, and his voice sounded muffled.

"Such…an… idiot," he choked. "Wonderful… girlfriend… most beautiful woman… in the world… best girl… and then I… oh, idiot… how could I…"

Sheba watched her boyfriend for several minutes. It appeared as though he was actually convulsing. Her hearts was quivering inside her. He was saying such nice things – did he really think she was beautiful? No, it didn't matter. He had just - it was unforgiveable - she was going to dump his ass. But maybe he really didn't mean to hurt her? Come to think of it, she couldn't really remember exactly how it happened… and he seemed so sorry, he would never have done it on purpose…

Sheba slowly lifted her boyfriend's face and placed it on her shoulder. "It's all r-r-r-ight," she murmured, stroking his long hair. "That's okay… I know you d-d-d-idn't mean it… I know it won't h-h-h-happen again… it's okay…"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sheba!" Dr. Kellog cried out as Sheba slunk to her seat. "My goodness! What happened to your face?"

"I had an accident over Christmas b-b-break," she mumbled, not looking at her professor's eyes.

Dr. Kellog laughed lightly. "My, my, my!" she exclaimed. "You keep on having accidents, my dear! You're going to have to watch your step more!"

"Yeah," Sheba muttered.

Dr. Kellog winked. "Must be that handsome boyfriend of yours."

Sheba froze.

"I remember when I dated the star quarterback," Dr. Kellog said dreamily. "I was in seventh heaven, always gazing at him, that I never watched where I was going either." She patted Sheba's arm affectionately. "It will pass, my dear."

A girl sitting a few seats behind Sheba snorted.

"She probably gets the bruises from pinching herself," the girl whispered to her friend. "To make sure she's dreaming. Can't blame her. I mean, why would anyone look at a girl like her?" The two girls twittered.

Sheba's face turned bright red. She quickly re-arranged her hair so that it would cover her face, as usual, and pretended to be listening intently to Dr. Kellog's lecture.

"You know," the second girl whispered back to her friend, "Jamie tells me that they're actually kind of rocky. That Sheba's actually thinking of _leaving _him."

"No way!" the first girl squeaked in what she must have thought was a conspiratorial whisper.

"Way," the girl whispered back.

"Well, she's an idiot then," the first girl whispered harshly. "She should be thanking her lucky stars that she got _any_ guy, let alone a quarterback who gets the leading male role in every production. What, does she think she's going to do better than _him?"_

"I know, can you believe it! I mean, who does that girl think she is, anyway?"

Don't cry, Sheba told herself sternly. Don't let them – oh, what the heck, go ahead and cry. You know they're right. Your own boyfriend keeps on telling you the same thing. No guy would ever spare you a glance, even if they weren't afraid of _him_ getting revenge. So the guy wasn't perfect. He did love her, he just got rough sometimes. Big deal. Her own father occasionally got rough on her mother, and she survived. They were still together. Who did Sheba think she was? Why should she have it any differently than her mother, who was ten times prettier, sexier, more outgoing?

---------------------------------------------------------------

"SUMMER VACATION, here we come!" The guys slammed their bodies together, exchanged high fives, and took several swigs of their beer as their girlfriends hooted and drank beer.

Sheba smiled stiffly and she held her full bottle of beer. She hated these parties. But she wasn't about to argue with _him. _He made it clear that they were going, and she had left it at that. She had suffered in silence for an hour, would stick it out for another hour, and then hopefully he'd be willing to go home.

"Hey, sexy," said a silky voice behind her. She smelled stale beer as one the frat boy leaned in towards her. "How about a little lippy-poo, baby?"

Sheba anxiously pushed the guy away. "Go away!" she squealed. The dude was so drunk that he teetered crazily and then toppled onto his side, giggling insanely.

"Ohhh, yeahhh!" he slurred. "Baby, I've still got it."

Eww. That did it. She was going home. She marched over to the other side of the room until she found him. She'd be firm. She'd be –

"H-h-h-honey," she heard herself quaver, "I'd like to go home now. P-p-p-please."

"Are you serious, babe?!" he shouted, his words sounding slurred. "Come on, babe, the party's just starting!"

"I r-r-r-really want you to take me to my d-dorm," Sheba said, trying to sound firm.

"Well, I don't, and you don't have a car, so too bad!" He laughed victoriously.

"G-g-g-guys are hitting on me," Sheba said, hoping to incite his jealousy streak.

He laughed mischievously. "Of course they are," he agreed. "Why shouldn't they?" He placed his arm around Sheba's shoulder. "Sexiest chic in the joint, and she's all _mine! Woo, hoo!"_

Sheba slithered away from under his arm. Damn. She'd have to find her own way. The last bus ran about half-an-hour ago, but she could take a cab. She opened her purse to pull out a few bills – but her wallet was empty. Her heart sank heavily as she remembered what always seemed to happen to her money. Great. She'd just have to stick it out. Maybe she'd go streak her makeup and muss her hair, to make herself look as ugly as possible. Keep away from these guys.

After another miserable two hours, Sheba's boyfriend finally teetered over to her.

"They're all out of booze," he said, although it was a bit difficult to translate through his thick slur. "Let's get outta here, babe." He jammed his hand roughly into the pocket in which her normally kept his car keys, but seemed to have trouble finding them.

Sheba watched him worriedly. "H-h-h-honey," she said softly, "Um – maybe it's b-b-better… d-d-don't you think I'd better d-d-drive?"

"No way!" her boyfriend hooted in horror. "No babe gets behind the wheel of my car! It's, like, the law."

"I'm thinking about the l-l-law too," Sheba muttered under her breath. In a louder voice she said, "Honey, I-I-I don't think it's a good idea, you've had t-t-t-too much drink –"

He roared. "Whaddaya think I am?" he shouted. "I can drive perfectly fine! So just shut up and get in the car!"

Sheba laughed nervously. "M-m-maybe I'd better get a ride with someone el—ow!" He had suddenly grabbed her arm roughly.

"Ouch – stop it! You're hurting me!"

"So shut up," he hissed. "You're coming with me, and that's that, so just get your ass in the car!"

Sheba tried to wrench her arm away frantically. "Let g-g-go – let go of me!"

The guy who had hit on Sheba earlier suddenly slapped her boyfriend on his shoulder. "Looks like the chic is standing up to you for a change," he hooted. "Woo, hoo! Nice one!"

"Shut up!" Sheba's boyfriend sneered.

"Ooooh, I'm so scared," the other guy sneered.

Sheba's boyfriend growled. He shoved the guy to the side and began striding across the living room, Sheba still firmly in his grasp.

"Ouch – stop! Let go – you're hur – LET GO, YOU BASTARD!"

He roughly slammed Sheba into the nearest wall.

"You little bitch!" He roared as Sheba tried to frantically wring herself out of his grasp. He slammed her into the wall again, and then roughly dragged her across the rest of the hall, flung open the door of a small den, and shoved Sheba roughly into the room.

Sheba tried to scramble to her feet, trying not to look at him. His eyes were red and wild, and his hair would have put Albert Einstein to shame. He looked ready to tear him from limb to limb, and he seemed just about deranged enough to do it. This couldn't be – God no – anything but –

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK BACK TO ME IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS, YOU LITTLE BITCH!"

"Get away f-f-from me," Sheba said in a strangled squeak. "Go away. I h-h-have pepper spray."

He roughly pulled her up by the front of her dress and slapped her hard across the face.

"S-s-s-stop it! Please, don't do anything s-s-s-tupid! Get o – OW! GET OFF OF ME!"

He flung Sheba away from him, and she landed on the floor with a sharp thud. Then the door suddenly flung open.

"H-h-help me!" Sheba cried from the floor.

The flirting guy flew into the room. "Oh, man, sounds like some good action is going on in here!"

"Help m-m-me –" Sheba began again, but her boyfriendkicked her sharply in the teeth.

"Oh, boy," the other guy cheered, his eyes gleaming. "I better get some of the others."

The next several minutes passed by in a blur. Sheba stopped thinking. The world stopped turning. The world was drained of all color, and all sounds were muffled, as though she were under water. She was able to hear some cheering in the background, the sound of something breaking, the sound of skin making contact…

And then she suddenly was able to make out someone's voice more clearly.

"You show her who's the man, yo!" Ted – Tom? Jake? Whoever it was – called.

"Yeah!" Mark or Mike or Sam called back. "Show her, dude! Show her who's the man!"

"Oh, yeah! Show her just _what kind of man_ you are!"

"Show her just _how much of a man _you are!"

"Show her!"

"Show her!"

"SHOW HER!"

"No," Sheba whispered soundlessly. The sons of bitches. They couldn't do this to her. She wouldn't let them. She would kill them all if they even tried. "No…"

They all took up the chant. It seemed to Sheba as though they were all wearing masks, were all carrying sticks, were all banging them to a rhythm…

"Show her, show her, show her…"

"Hey, and then give us all chance!"

"Yeah! Let's take turns!"

"No," Sheba repeated, a little more loudly. No one heard her. The chanting continued.

"Show her, show her, show her, show her…."

Everything went black.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Miss Gomez? Miss Gomez? Are you awake?"

Sheba moaned. "Go away," she murmured. "Get away from me."

"Miss Gomez, I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe now. I want to help you."

Sheba moaned again, clutching her ribs. She was cold. An icy frost gripped her veins. The cobwebs were slowly lifting from her mind. She kept her eyes shut. She wasn't interested in seeing anything. She never wanted to see anything ever again. She was too cold.

"Miss Gomez, please, I'd like to help you –"

"Little too late for that," Sheba said coldly.

"Miss Gomez, my name is Officer –"

"Get out of here. I'm not interested."

"Miss Gomez, I'd like to help you –"

"If you want to help me, then get me the hell out of this place."

"I'm sorry, Miss Gomez, the doctors want you remain here for observation for a few days. Now, Miss Gomez, I'd like to –"

"If I listen to you," Sheba mumbled, "will you then shut up and go away?"

"Instantly," the officer replied seriously.

"Make it fast," Sheba muttered. Her voice had changed since last night. It carried a brittle, harder quality, and sounded completely alien to her. It was also surprisingly steady, despite the fact that she felt as though her insides were made of jelly.

The officer quickly recited his name, rank, and number, as though afraid Sheba would interrupt him again. He stated his sympathies, spoke to her about what the doctors had said, spoke to her about her options. Sheba didn't listen to a word. She couldn't. She was too cold.

"Miss Gomez, do you happen to know the names of these men that hurt you?"

"Most of them," muttered Sheba. She just wanted to cover herself with her covers again, and melt back into the world of darkness from where she came. She was so cold. She wished this stupid cop would go away.

"Can you tell me these names?"

"No," Sheba said in a flat voice.

The officer paused for a minute. "Miss Gomez, aren't you interested in pressing charges?"

"No."

"Miss Gomez, if you are afraid of those men, we can –"

"I'm not afraid," Sheba lied. "I just don't want them to sit in prison for two years, watching cable and getting their degrees."

The officer hesitated. "What do you want, Miss Gomez?"

"To find them myself," Sheba said harshly, "and beat the crap out of them."

The officer stared wordlessly at the thin woman. He tried to imagine what she might look like if she was not battered, but he still had a hard time envisioning her as an imposing figure.

"Miss Gomez," he said hesitantly, "I can understand that you feel that way right now, but I'm afraid that it may not be in your best interest to –"

"Fuck my best interests," Sheba said stonily. She vaguely wondered where her stutter had gone, but she was too cold to think too deeply. "I'm going to track them down, every last one of them. They'll be sorry that they met me."

The officer waited. "Miss Gomez, you must be under terrible strain. I can't even imagine what the ordeal you've gone through, and I understand that you may not want to talk about police matters and criminal charges right now. Perhaps I should come back tomorrow, and we can discuss this –"

"You said you wanted to help me," Sheba interrupted.

"I did," the officer said cautiously. "And I do."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course," the officer said slowly.

"Teach me how to fight."

The officer looked into those deep blue eyes. They challenged him, threatened him. He was momentarily speechless.

"Miss Gomez, I hardly think –"

"You're a cop," Sheba interrupted. "You know how to fight. You said you want to help me. So teach me. I'll pay."

The officer studied Sheba carefully for several minutes. He thought of rules, of regulations, of laws. He thought of the scars across the woman's face, her bruises, her gashes, the fierce determination in her eyes. He looked into her eyes and saw the eyes of his sister, his mother, his ex-girlfriend, and every other woman he ever cared about. Those eyes. They ensnared him. He couldn't fight them. He could beat up three-hundred-pound guys, but he didn't stand a chance against those eyes. But he had to resist. He could lose his job. He would be jeopardizing his career. It was against his principles. He felt very sorry for Miss Gomez, but he wouldn't be able to go through with it. He just had no idea how to tell that to those piercing blue eyes…

----------------------------------------------------

"I have to keep on replacing the punching bags," the cop muttered under his breath and he struggled to fit the new bag.

"So charge me extra," Sheba said dryly. She began kicking at the bag as soon as the bag was properly in place, and the cop had to quickly dive in order to avoid getting kicked. Once he had found safety, he wordlessly watched Sheba wear out the bag for several minutes.

"Your technique is improving," he mused.

Sheba nodded jerkily. "I started taking those classes you told me about," she said shortly as she aimed a kick. The hook holding the new punching bag teetered dangerously, but Sheba did not seem to notice.

"Yes," the cop agreed. "You've built up your core muscles and increased your endurance to an unbelievable degree. I thought it was time to work more on precision and aim, but those were never my strongest suits. I'm more of a brute strength kind of guy, but those guys are probably just as massive and you'll need every advantage…"

The cop's voice faded out as he realized that he was babbling. He contented himself with watching Sheba for a few more minutes. She had been so lithe, so fragile-looking when he had first seen her. Now she still carried some bruises and scratches, but her physique had otherwise undergone formidable changes in the past three months. He had never seen anyone develop a six-pack in three months before.

He watched those blue eyes which continued to fascinate him. They were fierce with determination, and he found himself wondering how any man would be so idiotic to cross with anyone with such fierce eyes.

"Sheba," he suddenly said softly, "Once you – once you find these guys, and are –ah, finished with them – what do you plan on doing?"

He thought that she hadn't heard him. Without slowing the rate of her kicking, she finally said, "Finish college, I guess."

"You're still planning on staying in the same college? Not trans-"

"The best way to track those guys down," Sheba said shortly, "is to stay on campus. We've been through this."

"I still don't like it."

"Well, you'll just have to deal with it," Sheba said roughly.

"When you find them," the cop said softly, "I want to be there with you."

Sheba stopped kicking abruptly. "To protect the damsel in distress?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know better than that," the cop said firmly. "I'll go just as backup, if you prefer. But I want to be there. I want to see you taking them. And I want to help you do it, if you'll let me."

Was this guy for real? Sheba studied him carefully. His eyes were round and sincere, his face earnest.

"Well," she murmured, turning her face away, "if you just want to watch…"

"You are my protégé," he smiled.

Sheba still didn't look at him for a few more minutes, then turned back to him and smiled broadly. The cop was taken aback; he had never seen her that way.

"Together, then," Sheba said with a smile.

The cop nodded solemnly, his heart racing. "Together."

-----------------------------------------------

"I'm sorry to have called you here this late, Sheba," the officer rushed. "I just needed to tell you something –

"Spill," Sheba said impatiently, taking a quick chug of her coffee.

"You know how I'm in the reserves," he said hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"Well – um, I've just received a notice from the army."

"I'm guessing not a birthday card."

The officer shook his head ruefully. "No… Sheba, this is really hard for me to tell you. I'm really, really, really, sorry about this."

Sheba's coffee mug slammed onto the table with a thud.

"Don't tell me you're being deployed!"

"I'm so, so, sorry," he said sincerely, "but I have no –"

"Where the hell are they sending you?"

"Yugoslavia. I tried to petition for an extension, but the sit-."

"YUGOSLAVIA! How long do you have?"

"That's the trouble," he sighed uncomfortably. "I was given forty-eight hours to report."

"You've – you've WHAT!" Sheba demanded. Her nostrils flared, and her hands began to quiver slightly. "That's insane! They expect you to uproot your entire life, your job, your – your _everyone_ in forty-eight hours?" She didn't wait for an answer.

"Great," she growled. "Just great. My semester just started, and you're off to fight a bunch of Slavs."

"Sheba, you know I don't have a choice in this –"

Sheba curled her fists into balls. "Don't you talk to me about having a choice," she said fiercely. "I didn't exactly ask to be placed in this sitch, either." She knew she was being ungrateful, but at the moment she didn't give a damn.

"I know you didn't ask for this," the cop agreed. "I've been spending the last two days calling every office I could, and I'm still trying to find a way I can get push this off or –"

"Don't go," Sheba said impulsively.

"Sheba, I'd get arrested."

"You spend your whole life in the jail anyway."

"Sheba, I'd be willing to risk anything for you, butI wouldn't be much help to you in a military prison, and –"

"So stop talking!" Sheba shouted, pounding her fists on the table. MEN! You could never, never trust them, no matter how decent they would treat you! "Just shut the hell up, because I'm doing everything I can to hold myself back from jumping down your throat, and I'm not going to last much longer."

The officer hung his head sadly. Without looking up, he said, "You are probably the bravest woman I've ever met."

"Fuck you."

"You've become very strong, and I'm so proud of you."

"Oh, just get out of here already," she said sharply. "Go. Get yourself shot by Milosevic."

He rose stiffly. "I'm so sorry about this," he repeated softly. He gave her a quick salute, and then disappeared into the night.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sandra peered at her new counseling client sitting across from her. She was dressed in a leather catsuit, wore heavy black makeup, and had green streaks meandering throughout her hair. She was filing her nails and ignoring Sandra, and an unpleasant scowl marred the otherwise beautiful features of her face.

Sandra cleared her throat. "So," she began, "all right if I call you Sheba?"

"Shego."

"Um, excuse me?"

"Call me Shego," the woman said, still filing her nails.

"Um – all right, Shego," Sandra nodded. "Maybe you want to tell a bit about why you came in today."

Shego rolled her eyes. "I wasn't exactly given a choice."

"Uh-huh. So, you're only here because your advisor said –"

"That I was on probation and would get expelled if I didn't attend counseling," Shego muttered.

"Um – right. Could you tell me a little more about that?"

"It's all in the referral sitting in front of you."

"Well – yes," Sandra admitted. "But I often find that people like to have a chance to explain the situation in their own words. You know, explain their side of the story."

Shego shrugged. "I'm failing most of my courses. Except theater."

"I see," Sandra said softly. She glanced at the referral on her desk. "I believe some of your teachers also expressed concern over some other issues as well."

Shego didn't respond.

"Um, I believe some of your teachers and advisors have reported that you have gotten into several fights over the past semester, some of which appeared to be unprovoked. It's also mentioned here that you were fired from your job at the campus' center for domestic violence."

Shego snorted. "I was actually teaching them something useful. Apparently kung fu wasn't exactly what they had in mind when they said 'conflict resolution skills.'"

"I guess not," Sandra murmured. "Although I agree that self-defense is often very useful. I think there is also some mention here about some substance use on campus." Sandra paused. "That's a lot of stuff in that referral. What do you think about all of it?"

"I guess it's true," Shego mumbled. "Except the part about the fights being 'unprovoked.'"

"Were you having any of these issues during your freshman year?"

Shego snorted. "Puh-lease," she drawled. "The school's probably dying to have me be the person who I was in freshman year."

"What were you like freshman year?"

"Oh, they must be really miss me," Shego said angrily, filing her nails more quickly. "So sweet, so obedient, so eager-to-please, so easy to control. You get some backbone, and they flip out on you."

"So you've become more assertive since last year."

"Uh, yeah."

"Got it. So even though the school has some concerns about your assertiveness, it seems as though feel that it's an improvement."

"Hell, yeah."

Sandra thought carefully for a minute. "Did – did anything in particular happen since last year, that made you think that it might be a good idea to become more assertive?"

Sandra thought that she saw the nail filer shake ever so slightly for a fraction of a second. It was hard to be sure.

"I guess – I guess I just got tired of being pushed around my whole life," Shego mumbled. The nail filer was working very quickly.

"That must have been tough."

"Yeah."

"So – after a life of being pushed around, was there any – any particular event that made you say – 'screw it, I've had enough?'"

The nail filer stopped abruptly. Shego looked up for the first time, and Sandra was momentarily dazzled by the face of the woman sitting before her. Those fierce blue eyes, the determinedly set, sharply-chiseled jaw – Sandra noticed these features slowly begin to soften.

Shego opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to get it out – she needed to, and here were these kind green eyes locked into her own blue ones and she wanted to –

Shego abruptly jumped out of her seat. "I'm sorry, I need to leave," she blurted.

Sandra was momentarily startled. "Um, I th-"

"I'm sorry," Shego said honestly. The sarcasm was gone from her voice. "But I think that I've decided against counseling after all."

Sandra hesitated. "That's a pretty serious decision, Shego. Are you sure that you –"

"I'm sure."

"Maybe you'd like to think about this over the week?" Sandra said softly. "We can set an appointment to meet, and if you decide against coming you –"

"No, I don't think so. I'm just going to –"

"Shego, I respect your decision, but the consequences of it are pretty serious and –"

"You're right," Shego said quickly. "Okay, I'll come back next week."

She never did. It had been too close a call.

-------------------------------------------------------

Shego had finished talking about ten minutes ago, and Kim was still stunned. She wasn't quite sure how to react. She wanted to hug Shego, to carress her, to tell her that it would all be all right - but Shego hugged her knees to her chest and held her body rigid, staring into space, looking cold and unwilling to be touched.

It just didn't make sense. Images flooded her mind. Shego, losing her temper and busting up her dressing room; Shego, taunting cast and crew members ruthlessly and even maliciously; and then a final, unbidden image, of a small figure cowering from a large jock-type and begging for mercy - her mind rebelled. She wished she hadn't heard it. She wouldn't she didn't have to see it. She wished -

"So you went into acting after you left college," Kim said lamely, knowing full-well that it was hardly a sufficient response to Shego's story.

"Yes," Shego said into the air. "David saw me at one of my performance. I played a serial killer with a black belt in judo."

Kim hesitated. "Did – did you ever find him? That guy who did all that?"

"He stayed in college," Shego said bitterly. "I got kicked out, but he got to stay on a full scholarship. But I never got a chance to corner him on campus. He avoided me."

"Did – did you ever see or hear from him again?"

"They say he went to seed early and stopped playing football," Shego said flatly. "Went into acting himself. Contracted by Disney." Shego hesitated. "Had a recurring role in Kim Possible, in fact."

Kim's eyes widened. "He – he got what? You mean –" Realization hit full force. "Oh my god, don't tell you're talking about _ED?"_

"The one and only," Shego said dryly.

"Oh my god," Kim gasped, trying mightily to contain her nauseau. "And you – you stood next to him and act and – oh my god. Why didn't you _say _anything?"

"Are you kidding me with that?" Shego scoffed. "My last chance to get him – you think I was going to blow it?"

"And – and did get him?"

Shego punched the arm of the sofa. "No," she said angrily.

"What – why? You could have mopped the floor with him!"

"I was all ready to," Shego muttered. "And then – then when I saw him walk in through the door, I froze. I couldn't move a muscle."

"But –"

"Don't you get it?" Shego said angrily. She suddenly jumped off the couch and paced the floor furiously. "It doesn't matter than I can mop the floor with him! It doesn't matter how strong I am or how well I fight or how much he's gone to seed! It doesn't matter than he can't hurt me anymore! I thought it would matter, but it doesn't!" Shego kicked Kim's couch savagely. "I'm an idiot! Ed will always, always have this hold over me, and I will always be afraid of him! He probably doesn't recognize me – he remembers Sheba, not Shego – but I can never, never forget him or what he did to me! So no matter how pathetic it sounds, and no matter how angry I get, and no matter how much I want to tear him to shreds – I can't touch him."

There was nothing Kim could say to that.

"The cop –" she finally said haltingly. "Did you ever see him again?"

"He got shrapnel in his leg, and was honorably discharged," Shego said. "He wasn't able to go back to being a cop because of it, either. So lo and behold, he too was bitten by the acting bug. He was always typecasted into the tough hero roles, always playing the kind of guy he used to be and couldn't be anymore. But eventually the studios got tired of hiring him because he couldn't do any of his own stunts with his leg, so he was hired by Disney. Dave – always willing to exploit people's personalities and character quirks – decided to take advantage of his persona."

Realization slowly dawned on Kim.

"You mean – the cop –"

"Yes," Shego said softly. "Steve is the guy who first taught me how to fight."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Get away from me, you freak!" Bonnie shrieked, flying out of the dressing room suite.

"Sweet cakes, please, you must listen to me!" Junior squealed. He was hobbling after Bonnie, trying mightily to keep his terry robe tied around his waist. He was doing a poor job, and his robe flapped open to reveal both the tight girdle cinching his waist and the heavy pads covering his chest, arm, and shoulders.

Bonnie swiveled sharply to face Junior. "I said beat it, you sicko!"

"Sweetheart, I told you, these are made by a company that specializes in lingerie for men, I swear…"

Kim and Ron smiled at each other as they watched the argument unfolding, safe from the perch of their collapsible chairs. Bonnie had apparently barged into Junior's dressing room while he was in middle of changing. Only Bonnie would have assumed that her boyfriend's physique was actually the way it appeared during the show. Apparently Junior wore his cincher and pads on their dates as well.

Steve Atkins suddenly stomped onto the set. "All right, people, listen up!" he barked towards the cast at large.

Ron started. "Oh, man!" he moaned. "Don't tell me that now you're doing directorial duty – "

Steve glared at him. "Are you questioning my authority, Stoppable?" he asked in a dangerous voice. Steve was one of the board executives on the show.

"Er – no, sir," Ron faltered.

"As Dave and Mark are both at meetings and will be for quite some time," Steve continued in his booming voice, "they have asked me to make several announcements, help set up the scene, and in general get you punks ready for shooting to begin." The cast muttered their understanding. Steve cleared his throat.

"As you all know," he continued, "Miss Gomez has taken a short and unexpected hiatus for the next several weeks."

Well, thought Kim, _that_ was one way of explaining that she was suspended for breaking the director's nose.

"Due to this unforeseen setback, we are going to have to make some alterations in the production sequence, meaning that we are going to push off Scenes 232 to 245 for now, and proceed directly to 246."

"Aw, man, that tanks!" Ron exclaimed. "I just managed to memorize all my lines for 232 to –" A swift look from Steve silenced Ron instantly.

"Thankfully, all the characters in Scene 246 are able to make it to the studio on short notice," Steve droned dryly. "So while we wait for them to grace us with their presence, let's get into positions for Scene 246, shall we."

"But I'm not even in Scene 246!" wailed Bonnie. "I would have slept late if I would have known that we were going to start with it!"

"Then you will just have to find a way to occupy your time," Steve growled.

Bonnie crossed her arms firmly. "Right, because I have nothing better to do that sit around and wait for the _stars _to finish up their pathetic little scenes," she whined. "You know, some of us –" she glared at Kim – "actually have a _life_ and things to do –"

"Like getting a manicure," Kim muttered.

"Exactly," Bonnie said, rolling her eyes. "'Bout time. You're getting it."

"ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Atkins shouted. "Places, people! Let's go! Move it!"

Kim and Ron secured their positions for Scene 246. Bonnie glared at them, marched towards Kim's collapsible chair, and sank into it, her arms firmly folded across her chest. Kim bit her lip in anger, knowing that saying something would only annoy Steve. Aside from the fact that he was not particularly pleasant when irked, she found herself feeling unusually warm and respectful towards him.

As the actors both onset and off waited, Steve conferred with the crew members adjusting the lighting for the scenes. Ron retrieved a creased and torn copy of the script from his non-Rufus inhabited pocket and began reading furiously, muttering his lines. Everything was going as planned.

Then it happened.

A loud, rumbling noise reverberated through the studio, like thunder. The cast members jumped, startled, and Kim realized that she had instinctively leapt into a fighting stance.

The rumbling grew louder.

Steve's eyes suddenly grew wide as saucers. "We're under attack!" he shouted. "GET OUT OF RANGE!" He ran out of his perch from stage left, shoved Kim and Ron out of the way, and dragged them under the teachers' desk situated towards stage right.

"Don't say a word!" he hissed. "They might not have heard us yet!"

Kim twisted herself out of Steve's grasp. "We're not under attack, Steve," she muttered somewhat snappishly. She darted out from under the desk, dragging Ron with her. "That's just the sound of a –"

Her heart suddenly sank as she saw the cause of the thunderous noise.

"- a motorcycle," Kim finished feebly. Her heart began to pound furiously, her mouth went dry, and she was overcome by a sudden urge to retch.

"YEARGH!" shouted Ed, pumping his fist in the air. He was astride a giant motorcycle, which he had driven straight through the studio's double doors and right onto the soundstage. "Dude, the party can start! Seriously."

Steve, who recovered from his shock with remarkable speed, quickly stood up, taking care not to bang his head against the makeshift bomb shelter. He glared at Ed, still perched on his bike, with great disdain.

"Making dramatic entrances, are we?" Steve asked angrily. His eyes were hard and distrusting.

"Dude, the bike's my trademark!" Ed shrugged.

"Well, your trademark is AGAINST REGULATIONS!" Steve suddenly shouted. "As long as you are studio premises, there is ABSOLUTELY NO DRIVING directly onto an indoor set!"

"Dude, seriously," Ed asked peevishly. "Who died and made you king of the hill?"

"I DID!" Steve bellowed.

"Dude, chill. Seriously."

Steve did not respond. He was still glaring at Ed suspiciously.

"Get yourself in costume, man," Steve finally barked. "And leave the bike right there!" he added loudly.

After much grumbling, Ed stomped off the soundstage and headed for his dressing room. Kim wondered how exactly his current clothes differed from his costume for the show. She and Ron returned to their original positions, and the crew continued experimenting with the lighting.

"Too much of a green cast!" Steve shouted to the grips above. Then he shook his head and muttered, half to himself, "I don't trust that Ed."

"Why don't you trust him, Steve?" Kim called to him, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I don't know," he grumbled. "I can't put my finger on it… but there's something about him that doesn't sit well with my gut." He clapped a large fist against his abdomen for demonstration. "One never doubts the gut, Possible."

Kim did her best to regard Steve seriously.

"Always trust your instincts," Steve continued dramatically. "They just might save your life." He paused thoughtfully. "Of course, they may also endanger your life in the first place. But trust them, nonetheless."

"Um – riiight," Kim drawled. "Maybe we had better keep an eye on him."

"I've always had my eye on him," Steve muttered, glaring in the direction of the dressing rooms. "One false move and I'll…" He shook his head. "Too bad the old leg's not what it used to be."

Kim nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, it's too bad about that shrapnel."

Steve turned to her sharply. "What did you say?"

Damn. "Um…" Kim faltered. "The shrapnel. In your leg. From Yugoslavia."

"Who told you about that?" Steve asked suspiciously.

"Um… I don't remember," Kim lied. "I just remember, you know, hearing it around." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't realize it was something that you didn't want people to know…"

Steve did not answer, but continued to look at Kim strangely for several minutes, leaving her slightly unnerved. She fidgeted slightly as the grips continued to adjust the lighting. Just as the lighting was ready, David and Mark suddenly marched up to the soundstage.

"Stay in positions, people," David said tonelessly as the cast and crew began inching forward to address the two men. "And listen carefully, we've got some news." He nodded miserably towards Mark, who officially had more seniority than David.

Mark cleared his throat. "As you all know," he said softly, "Disney only officially renewed 'Kim Possible' for a fourth season. As you also know, we were all busily fighting for a fifth, and we were pretty sure that we were going to get it." The cast members nodded. They had already begun deliberating contract negotiations for a fifth season, and several of the scriptwriters were bouncing ideas off of the producers. As far as the cast and crew were concerned, the show must go on, and the sooner Disney caught on, the better.

"Anyway," Mark said, "David and I made a seminal decision today." He paused dramatically, and Kim thought that he caught her gaze for the briefest moment. "We have decided to stop pushing for a fifth season."

The cast and crew all began talking at once, except for Kim, who felt strangely detached. She paid vague attention to the furious comments around her.

"WHAT! Oh, come on, man!"

"Shoot, you can't tell this to us NOW!"

"I turned down five jobs in the last month alone because I thought that we were going to go another season!"

"You promised us you'd do everything you could!"

"Why the hell are you giving up? Our chances are so good!"

Kim noticed David's temple throbbing, and although she looked away, she felt that he was looking at her. She noticed that several of her co-actors and actresses were rendered speechless, tears rolling down their eyes. Rufus was patting Ron's shoulder softly. Kim's insides writhed with guilt.

Kim listened politely as David and Mark tried to calm the cast and crew, making vague promises and convoluted explanations for the sudden change in plans. The members of the cast and crew were all talking over each other loudly, but Kim remained silent. She hoped that the others would assume that she was struck dumb by shock or grief. Well, they would find out the truth sooner or later. It would only take a few months before the paparazzi would catch on to the real reason that Kim Possible was being broken up. The cast and crew that were now casting apologetic looks in her direction would stop being so sympathetic.

This was all her fault. These people were losing their jobs in the last minute, and it was all because of her. She couldn't bear to face any of them, and was pointedly ignoring Ron, who was clearing trying to catch her attention.

Kim functioned on autopilot for several hours, only vaguely aware of Ron, Monique, Wade, and Steve glancing at her quizzically with concern. She continued to feel numb until Ed began shooting his first scene.

The moment that Ed opened his mouth, hate and revulsion filled Kim's throat. This – this – _creature_ – how dare he – how could he – as though – as though hewere _harmless? _As though he were fit to look at decent people in the face? How was not overcome with his own shame and self-loathing? How could the rest of the cast and crew bear to look at him? Had she really never realized how repulsive he was till now – how uncouth his laugh, how massive his bear-like hands, how foul his breath?

And Shego was _afraid_ of this loser? It just didn't make sense! Her heart twisted as she thought of Shego returning to the set in about a week. Ed would probably still be there. Would they have to act side-by-side, in the same scene? How awful. How degrading. How –

Kim was suddenly hit with a flash of inspiration. The corners of her lips tugged into a ghost of a smile, which was unfortunately completely incongruent with the scene being shot. David began hollering at her, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered. Why didn't she think of this before? It worked so well with Joe. She was so busy planning her exact moves that she didn't notice that that Steve, in between looks of concern, was casting her suspicious glances as well.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Shego parked her car in Kim's garage. Aside from being convenient, it was a security measure – it was less likely that snoopy people would notice it and wonder why the hell Shego's car was parked in front of Kim Reilly's house. It also helped that the garage was attached to Kim's house, so she was able to let herself in without having to actually leave the garage and walk in front of Kim's house in broad daylight.

Shego pulled out a pair of keys from her pocketbook – she fought back a smile as she thought of how Kim had taken so much time before she agreed to make her a copy – and suddenly froze. Something was going on inside Kim's house. Something – loud. Her eyes narrowed. That little bi – no, it couldn't be. It was just like Kim said: she had to start trusting her more. That Perlman boy was probably over, and they were watching TV together.

But something was definitely going on in there. Should she go in? If it was something innocent – which it was, of course – she shouldn't risk blowing their cover. Perlman may be an oblivious buffoon, but even would start wondering why his ex-girlfriend's foresworn enemy had a set of key to her house.

Shego sighed and jammed her car keys in her ignition. It wasn't like Kim to forget that it was their day, but what the hell. She was about to turn the keys when she suddenly froze.

That voice. She recognized that voice, and it wasn't the buffoon's.

Shego's heart stopped cold, and her mouth went dry. No. She wouldn't. Not even Miss Priss was that stupid. Yes she was. She had to go in there and stop her. Kim was probably planning something noble and stupid. That little – was she crazy? Shego felt the old, familiar fear creep back into her veins, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to leave the car. She hated herself for her cowardice. He was in there! It would be too easy!

Kim suddenly started shrieking.

Without thinking, Shego flew out of the car, her keys still in the ignition. She pounced on Kim's door, jammed her keys in the lock, and kicked it open so powerfully that she heard it splinter slightly.

Although she had recognized his voice, she couldn't help feeling shocked and repulsed as she saw _him _on the floor, his hands pinned across Kim's throat. Kim was kicking valiantly, and had Shego been capable of truly seeing, she would have been proud to notice that _he _looked far worse for wear that she did.

Roaring loudly, she jumped on Ed's back, dragging his mullet forcefully to the floor.

"What the hell – "

"Shego!" Kim cried.

"YOU PRICK!" Shego screamed. She stared full into those hateful eyes, and felt nothing but rage and hatred and revenge. The fear was gone. "Nobody touches the Princess, you hear me? Nobondy! That's my job! MINE!"

"Seriously, Green, you –"

Shego punched him in his mouth, and felt a deep satisfaction at the reverberating sound.

"YEOW! Babe, what's your damage?"

Shego grabbed Ed by the lapels of his leather jacket, practically lifting him off the floor. Her blood pulsating loudly through her temples. "Remember me?" she asked in a deadly voice.

"Shego, paws off the jacket, seriously –"

"D-d-d-do you remember m-m-me now?" Shego asked softly. Her voice sounded young and frightened, but blazing blue eyes remained hard and furious.

Realization suddenly dawned on Ed's face. "Oh crap," he muttered under his breath.

"_Oh crap_?" Shego shouted disbelievingly. She flung Ed's away from her, and he landed on the floor with a heavy thud. She strode purposefully towards him and kicked him. "_Oh, crap?" _She laughed loudly and derisively. "Oh, please. That's the best you can do?"

Ed groaned slightly, rubbing his stomach with one hand and attempting a placating gesture with the other. "Look, babe, I know I didn't exactly end it with you on the best terms – "

"_YOU DIDN'T END IT ON THE BEST TERMS!"_ This was unbelievable! "Not the best terms?! That's what you call that frat party? Not the best terms?!"

"Look, babe, I can't really remember how it happened, I was so wasted – "

Shego laughed bitterly. "You can't really remember," she said hollowly. "And I can never forget."

"Look, babe – "

"DON'T CALL ME BABE!"

"Sheba –"

"DON'T CALL ME SHEBA!"

"- It's all vague, but seriously, I know I was a real jerk back then, but can't we – you know, just put that behind us?"

Shego bellowed and she swooped down on Ed, pummeling him furiously. "You… asshole," she muttered through gritted teeth in between punches. Furious tears stung her eyes. Every fiber of her being was propelled by sheer rage. Rational thought was gone. "And I… wasn't… enough… you… needed… to get… her… too…"

"Oof!" Ed groaned, trying valiantly to wrestle away from her. The bitch was crazy! He said he was sorry, seriously! What the hell did she want form him? "She…started…it, I swear!... She… invited… me – damn! Let go of my wrists, woman!"

Shego breathed heavily. She was lying on top of Edpinning his wrists down. She jeered a twisted smile. Kim held her breath, wondering if the woman was entirely sane.

"Déjà vu?" Shego whispered dangerously. Ed shrunk away from her breath.

"You crazy –"

"This exact position. Just slightly reversed."

"Get off of me, you crazy bitch!"

It happened so quickly that Kim barely saw it. At least now she knew what Shego kept in the pouch on her leg, which she even wore off the set, usually hidden under her baggy jeans.

"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Ed repeated, but a note of hysteria had crept into his voice. Kim froze. She should stop this – shouldn't she? But she was afraid to shout out, lest Shego really lose it.

"Don't do it!" Ed blubbered hysterically. "I'd rather give you my right hand!"

"Your right hand has less sentimental value for me," Shego murmured softly.

"Shego, please! Have mercy!"

"Why?" Shego asked tonelessly.

"Because – oh my God! Red! Somebody, anoybody! Help me!"

"This really is déjà vu," Shego said flatly. Kim was frightened by the lack of expression in her voice.

"Shego," she said, trying to keep her voice calm, "he isn't worth it –"

"Shut up, Kim," Shego said flatly. "And get down," she added, noticing Kim slowly rising.

Kim didn't move. She felt struck dumb. She should do something! But if she made any sudden moves – Shego might – and it would be her fault –

"Please don't do anything stupid," Ed begged.

"You're stealing all my lines," Shego said harshly. "Tell me one reason why I shouldn't."

Ed didn't respond. He was sobbing uncontrollably.

"You really can't think of one?" Shego said derisively. She glared at him fiercely, her steely eyes boring into his. After several long moments, she flicked her penknife closed. "I can," Shego said in a dead voice. "I'm not like you."

The danger past, Ed continued to blubber incoherently.

"Oh, cork it," Shego said impatiently. Kim was relieved to her hear her voice sounding normal again. "Shut up and get out of here. Don't ever come near me or my Kimmie ever again."

With remarkable speed and agility unusual for his size, Ed jumped off the floor and flew out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Shego stood silently, her back to Kim, watching the door expectantly, as though she though Ed might return. Kim stared at Shego's back. For the first time in all the years they had worked together, she felt slightly afraid of the tall woman with dark hair and sharp blue eyes. Her body was taught with tension. Shego slowly turned to face Kim, and the steeliness in her eyes slowly dissolved into fear and relief and gratitude and – something else that Kim couldn't quite grasp. Wordlessly, they stepped towards each other and hugged each other tightly, as though they might never meet again. They clung to each other silently, oblivious to the world around them, not hearing the doorbell ringing, not noticing the anxious face peering in the window, not noticing the sound of a car speeding away.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve sighed and drank heavily from his mug. The world felt heavy on his shoulders.

"I'll have another," he said tonelessly to Ralph, who nodded sympathetically. Bartenders always know. They didn't have to ask questions. They just recognize the signs.

Another man slowly slid into the stool next to Steve's. Without lifting his head or his eyes, Steve asked, "A bit young to be in here, Stoppable, are we?"

Ron jumped slightly. "Mr. B. – " he stammered. "I – "

"Never mind," Steve said flatly. He jabbed his thumb towards Ron direction and barked, "Another one for my friend here. Same thing I'm having."

Ron was startled by Steve's charity. "Uh – gee, thanks, sir," he said gratefully.

"It's ginger ale," Steve growled.

"Oh," Ron said with some disappointment. "Which is exactly what I thought it was," he added hastily, noticing Steve eyeing him sternly.

The two men didn't speak as Ralph placed two bubbling mugs in front of them.

"Well," Steve sighed, as he took a long gulp, "I suppose I can guess what brings you here."

Ron nodded miserably.

"We don't have any proof, of course," Steve added.

"None," Ron said hollowly. He drank from his mug. "I mean, friends hug all the time, right?"

"You saw them hugging?" Steve asked suddenly.

Ron didn't answer. That was all the confirmation Steve needed.

"Well," he said in a dead voice. "Well. Friends hug."

"All the time," Ron agreed.

"All the time," Steve repeated.

They both took another long gulp at the same moment.

Ron peered into his mug. "I wouldn't mind something stronger," he muttered softly, stealing a glance at Steve.

"I never touch the stuff," Steve said gruffly. He paused. "Anymore."

"Might do you good," Ron said tentatively. Hopefully Steve would take a hint. He was the one with the valid ID.

Steve was pensive. "It does far more harm than good," he said to no one in particular, deep in reminiscence. "Trust me, Ron."

Ron jerked slightly at the use of his first name. "I guess," he sighed. Tonight was just not his night.

Steve and Ron drank several ginger ales and root beers, talking infrequently. There was a silent understanding between the two of them, and after an hour, Ron slowly worked up the courage to mention something.

"I guess having gone through a war puts things in perspective."

Steve nodded slowly, still not looking at Ron.

"You see things," he said simply.

"Must've been rough," Ron nodded.

Steve shrugged. "Nothing's ever easy."

"Guess not," Ron sighed. "And the shrapnel, to top it off –"

"What shrapnel?" Steve asked sharply, turning to face Ron, who jumped slightly.

"Er – isn't that – how you got your leg- ?"

Steve sighed. "It happened in Yugoslavia," he said. "But not shrapnel."

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Then how come –"

"It happened in a fight," Steve said simply. "A soldier – was bragging about something. About in his frat days when he helped a guy –" Steve broke off.

Ron waited.

"I should have gotten there sooner," Steve muttered. A frantic edge had crept into his voice, and he clenched his fists. "If I hadn't been out of the patrol car that one minute – I might have heard the first message on the radio – if I hadn't stopped to grab that drink – I might have been there earlier – even a few minutes earlier might have made a difference… I might have been able to stop it…" His voice trailed off.

"Sorry about what happened," Ron said softly, wondering to himself what the hell Steve was talking about. "I bet you wish you could forget. Even for a little bit of time."

"I do," Steve agreed with a heavy sigh. "And you're not getting a beer."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're not getting a beer, Kim," Shego said flatly.

"Come on," she wheedled.

"Nothing stronger than caffeine, Princess. Not on my watch."

Kim rolled her eyes, but was still smiling.

Shego studied Kim carefully while sipping her cappuccino. "You know, Kim," she said thoughtfully. "I just realized something."

"Shoot."

"When I walked in," Shego continued, "Ed had you in that Franken hold."

"Yeah."

"Well, I happen to know that you usually can get out of that hold in about 3.4 seconds – "

"You _time_ me? Are you that competitive?"

"—and I have a hard time believing Ed's hold is stronger than mine."

Kim suddenly became very interested in her frappucino.

"You can hear cars back up into your garage from your living room, can't you," Shego said. It wasn't a question. Kim was still fascinated by her frappucino.

Shego impatiently knocked the glass away from Kim's hands and glared at her.

"Are you crazy?" Shego snapped angrily.

Kim smiled at her playfully. "I must be."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER NINE

"I don't give a damn about that shit contract!" Ed hollered. "I'm not working with that damn bitch. She's totally wacked, seriously."

"Which damn bitch are you talking about?" David asked bitterly.

Steve glared at David and Ed angrily. "I would appreciate if you limit your verbiage within the confines of professional speech, if you are at all capable of doing so."

"Dude, seriously, is this guy speaking English?" Ed asked David quizzically as he lit up a cigarette.

"And there is absolutely NO SMOKING IN HERE!" Steve bristled.

"Can we stick with the point?" David shouted. "What exactly makes you think that you can simply walk out in middle of an _episode?_ It will be in all the – "

"Dude, I tell you, I'm history!" Ed muttered through his cigarette. He snatched a piece of paper out of David's hand and ripped it into shreds.

"That's only a copy," Mark said softly.

"We'll sue you," David warned, ignoring Mark. "For every penny you've got."

Ed impatiently blew a puff of smoke at David.

"Cut that out," David said shortly. "Now, listen, this is going to be in all the papers –"

Ed snorted. "Dude!" he sneered. "You don't need this is in the papers. You're about to get all the bad publicity you need. Seriously."

Steve suddenly seized Ed by the lapels of his leather jacket, glaring at him menacingly. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked softly.

"Dude, paws off the jacket," Ed said peevishly. Steve clung on tightly.

"Wait, Steve," David said nervously. He adopted what was clearly intended to be a warm, fatherly air, which meant that he was taking Ed's threat very seriously. "Perhaps Ed knows something that…"

"Damn right I do," Ed laughed. "I can just imagine the press finding out about your two leading ladies –"

"They aren't going to find out," Steve said brusquely, "as long as you keep your trap shut."

"Dude, I'd like to see you make me. Seriously."

Mark paled slightly, and David gritted his teeth, dropping any pretense of being warm and paternal. "Damn you," he mumbled. "Fine. Forget the damn contract. But if you so much as breathe a word, so help me God, we'll come after you for every cent you've got. Hear me?"

"Got it, dude," Ed grinned widely.

Steve slowly released his grip, continuing to stare malevolently at Ed, his eyes full of hatred. "Get out of this office," he growled. Ed brushed off his jacket lapels, blew a puff of smoke in Steve's direction, and sauntered out of the office door.

Steve continued to glare furiously at the office door as David began massaging his temples.

"Change in production plans," he said in a dead voice. "All of Ed's scenes need to be re-shot with a different character. Let's see if we can rope in that Demenz character. In the meantime, we change today's plans for the shoot and proceed directly to scene 430." David groaned slightly. "Steve, do you think you can get the principals started again? Mark and I just need to make some last minute-arrangements…"

"Done," Steve nodded. He began striding towards the door, and then he turned around. "I forget. What time are the Warriors coming?"

"They'll be here at three," Mark said quietly.

"Amazing how the most successful wrestling duo in the country agreed to be cast in the finale," David nodded. Warren Hawkes and Wanda Manga, who were more frequently known by their stage names or by their title "The Warriors," were both scheduled to appear in the series finale.

"Warmonga must have persuaded her partner. I know that she particularly enjoyed guest starring this season," Mark murmured. He suddenly smiled slyly at Steve. "She particularly appeared to enjoy making your acquaintance, if I recall correctly."

"Oh, she was far more interested in Drew," Steve scoffed.

"For the first three days of the shoot," David muttered under his breath.

"Drop it," Steve said shortly. He was in no mood for joking. As he stalked out of the office and slammed the door, he could have sworn that he heard Mark mutter, "Apparently denial is more than a river in Egypt." He was pretty sure that he heard David chuck and respond, "Good one, Moskowitz. Maybe we can work it into the script."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ron pulled his small station wagon into his parking spot dejectedly. He was late for today's shoot, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. He hadn't even eaten in two days. As he slowly removed himself from his station wagon, he noticed a large convertible pull up beside his. His stomach clenched. Shego.

"Hey, Perlman," she nodded carelessly, in that tone that Ron knew was reserved for buffoons and unimportant people such as himself. Ron smiled weakly and tried to look away, a lump growing in his throat.

"Oh, come off it," Shego snapped impatiently. "What's the matter with you now?"

Ron slowly forced himself to look at the woman. God, she was just as beautiful as he remembered her, with those cheekbones and jawline and that hair – no. He wouldn't. He stared at her for a few seconds longer, and then finally sighed.

"How many more knives will you stick in my back?" he finally asked. He turned away before he could feel any satisfaction from Shego's shocked expression, or before he could fully register that – for once – he had the last word.

As Shego stood watching him slightly with her mouth slightly open, Ron continued to trudge through the parking lot on his way to the studio.

Shego – it had been nearly two years since he had thought of her, or at least _really _thought of her. He had been fascinated by her from the beginning, fascinated by her beauty, by her moods, by her unattainability. He was frightened of her, and never felt comfortable around her, yet that didn't stop his stomach from lurching in her presence, or stop him from stuttering like an idiot around her.

She disdained him, of course. Scoffed him, insulted him, laughed at him, made him feel like a fool. She made his life utterly miserable at times. He hated her at those moments – and yet – he was still bewitched by her, cowed by her, and would blush furiously whenever he thought about how Shego featured in his dreams.

He tried so hard to stop thinking about her, really. He knew that she wasn't good for him – he was practical about it. He dated other girls on the set, and fantasized over Kim. It wasn't as though he actually wanted a real relationship with Shego anyway – that would be a disaster. It was just that –

Stop it, Perlman, Ron told himself sternly as he crept into the studio. Get yourself some brain soap – this whole sitch is sick and wrong, and you know it. Don't do this to yourself, buddy…

Ron managed to hold off his thoughts for about another thirty seconds, till he found himself in his dressing room. He moaned loudly, crumpled onto the floor, and surrendered to his memories….

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron was feeling miserable. They had just finished shooting _Steal Wheels. _Finishing an episode was always somewhat of a festive occasion, particularly when the shoot went smoothly, which usually meant that Kim and Shego were not constantly at each other's throats. But Shego had been strangely subdued throughout most of the shoot, and there were only a few minor flare-ups between her and Kim, with no bystander casualties. The directors were fairly satisfied with the rushes, and the cast faced two blissful weeks of vacation to look forward to until they begun the next episode…

But Ron couldn't share the directors' optimism. He was too busy pining for Kim, that perfect girl-next-door, his co-star. They had been friends for so long, and he was hoping that Kim would take his hints that he was hoping that they would become something… more. But Kim seemed so oblivious at times! And she had been flirting with Felix during the entire shoot. Man. Every guy knew how to flirt, except for him and Drew. All through the shoot, Felix made googly-eyes at Kim, Ed made googly-eyes at Shego… who was left?

As he usually did when he felt miserable, Ron found himself waiting on line for the movie theater. There might be something good showing tonight. And then he saw the marquees – _Brick-a-Brack_ was still showingThe movie received awful reviews, but still – Kim had a supporting role. He had already seen it with her at the premieres.

Don't do this to yourself, Ron told himself sternly. Don't – you'll just make yourself more miserable – this is not a good idea –

Ron waited online for thirty minutes and purchased a ticket for the next showing.

Ron slunk into the theater as soon as the double doors opened, and slipped into a seat in one of the back rows. It wasn't so often that he was recognized in crowds – particularly with his five-o'clock shadow, his normally-shapen ears, and his jelled hair – but one could never be too careful. He certainly did not feel like signing any autographs or answering any nosy questions by journalists – particularly the kinds who wiggled their eyebrows at him when they asked about how he and Kim were "getting along."

After the lights had dimmed and the previews began showing, Ron noticed a shadowy figure approaching him, stumbling slightly. He slunk deeper into his seat. Please don't be a fan – please don't be a fan – please don't – The shadowy figure slumped into the seat nearest to him, practically collapsing into it. Ron shirked slightly. The figure reeked of alcohol, and was hiccupping softly.

Ron tried to ignore figure next to him as the feature began playing. She – he was fairly certain it was a woman next to him – had her head between her knees and was muttering to herself. Okaaayyy. What was the point in paying to watch a movie if you weren't going to even be able to see anything? And who exactly was she talking to, anyway?

"No… stop…please… leave me alone… go away…"

So she was having a nightmare. Ron felt a twist of pity in his heart.

"Hey," he hissed. "Wake up – er – ma'am."

"No," the woman slurred in what seemed to be a panic-stricken voice. "Go away. Go away from me."

A few people near them apparently heard some of the commotion and were buzzing angrily in Ron's direction.

"Oh come on, it's not that good a movie," Ron muttered towards the crowd under his breath. Resolving to try again, he placed his hand on the woman's shoulder and started shaking it firmly. "Come on, wake up," he said loudly. "It's just a dream. Wake up, it's okay, you're safe."

"No…" the woman murmured softly, painfully. Slowly she began lifting her head toward Ron's directions, and Ron noticed her eyes fluttering open. They suddenly grew wide and awake.

"Oh my go—" she began, and then suddenly – catching Ron completely off-guard – she flung her arms around him and began crying.

"Thank god – you're not – you're just – oh…"

"Er… it's okay," Ron said awkwardly. This was an unexpected twist – some strange drunken woman was crying into his shoulder. He slowly lifted his hand, feeling instinctively that he should stroke the woman's hair, but something held him back, so that he was left with his arm somewhat hovering over the woman's head.

An usher strode towards Ron.

"Look, bud," he hissed, "you're going to have shut her up."

"Well, it's not easy!" Ron snapped back. "And I don't even know her!"

"Just take her out," the usher snapped. "Now. Beat it, you two."

"Well, it was a stupid movie anyway," Ron muttered. He turned back to the woman and said into her ear, "Okay, um, lady… we're going to have start going now." He slowly tried to prop her up, placing her arm around his shoulder. He managed to heave her out of the seat, and the woman slowly got to her feet and shuffled out of the theater with Ron, the disapproving eyes of the audience boring holes in the back of their heads.

"Well, here we are," Ron said, trying to sound cheerful as he squinted in the strong light outside the theater. He gently deposited the lady into a chair, and she immediately slumped forward, her head buried in her hands, her shoulders still heaving slightly. Ron rubbed his eyes.

"Well, if you're feeling okay –"

Ron suddenly stopped cold. He felt those familiar butterflies in his stomach, and rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was seeing straight. He didn't quite catch her face through her fingers – but that hair – those hands – he would know them anywhere –

"_Shego?" _Ron asked disbelievingly.

Shego slowly lifted her head out of her hands. Her eyes were rimmed and bloodshot, and her nose was red. She hiccupped.

"Perlman," she said.

"Shego – what – what are – what are you _doing_?" Ron stammered.

"I'm drunk," Shego said simply, a small smile on her lips.

"I can see that much," Ron said in a small voice. "But – um – why?"

Shego giggled slightly. "Why not?" she slurred. "You should try it."

"I think I'll pass," Ron said weakly.

Shego hiccupped. "And I think I'll pass out."

"Oh, Shego, don't do that – "

"But it's so nice," Shego purred. "So nice to get stone, cold, stinkingly drunk. Have you ever been stone, cold, stinkingly drunk, Perlman?"

"Um – no," Ron answered nervously.

"You should try it," Shego said thickly. "It's funderful… wonderful… You don't feel anything. It's like… it's like… you're floating, flooooating on a cloud, and no once can come touch you." She laughed again, hiccupping slightly.

"Err… right," Ron said, his mouth feeling full of sawdust. "Um… we better get you home, Shego."

"Home is good," Shego said, nodding vigorously. "Home is very good… home has beer and liquor and vodka and…"

"Let's just get you out of here," Ron said again. He bent down to pick up her arm again, and then hesitated.

"Wassermarrer?" Shego hiccupped.

"Nothing," Ron squeaked. Slowly, haltingly, he draped Shego's arm around his shoulder, and helped her out of the chair again. He swallowed as he half dragged-half carried Shego out of the theater, and ignoring the patrons of the theater glaring coldly at them.

Ron helped Shego through the parking lot and into his car. He hesitated again, and then nervously strapped Shego in her seatbelt, his hand slightly shaking as he felt his hand brush against her chest.

"Um… okay," Ron said in a small voice, fumbling for his keys in his pocket. "Um… just… just tell me your address, I guess…"

Shego hiccupped again. "You know, Perlman," she said thickly. "There are a lot of guys out there who'd try to take advantage of a girl in my situation."

Ron, who had been thinking the same thing, didn't answer. His tongue was trembling too hard.

"Bet that didn't even cross your mind," Shego said with a giggle. "You know why?"

"Because…" Ron swallowed. "Because… er, I'm a nice guy?"

Shego chuckled. "No," she said lightly. "Because you're a buffoon."

"Great, just great," Ron muttered. His intestines felt like jelly, and his hand was shaking so hard that he was having trouble fitting his key into his ignition.

Suddenly Shego began leaning towards Ron, so that her hair was in front of his hair. Ron tried to breathe deeply. He felt his face growing very hot, and his fingers grow very cold. His heart was pounding so loudly that he was sure that Shego could hear it.

"Buffoon is good," she said softly. "Buffoon is nice."

"Um… sure…" Ron stammered. He was shaking like a leaf.

Shego leaned in a bit closer. Ron held his breath as he felt her warmth, smelled her breath, even smelled her shampoo. He swallowed hard.

"Buffoons don't hurt innocent people," Shego said softly.

"Guess not," Ron squeaked. He tried to keep his eyes on the steering wheel, but it was no use – he could feel Shego's smoldering eyes boring into the back of his skull.

"You would never hurt a woman, would you, Perlman," Shego said softly. It was not a question.

"N-n-no…. of course not..."

"Look at me."

Slowly, uncertainly, and scared out of his mind, Ron turned to face Shego. Her eyes were large and sad and…normal-looking. The usual menace was gone. She leaned her face into Ron's, and Ron felt himself slowly melt as those warm, soft lips merged into his own…

-----------------------------------------------------------

Ron kicked his dressing room wall. She never said anything afterward, of course. He wasn't even sure if she remembered any of it. In any case, they were back in the studio two weeks later, and Shego… was exactly the same to him. Still cold, still mocking, still distant, and still just as beautiful and terrible as ever.

Not like he expected anything to change. He told himself, over and over, that nothing would change between them, that it had all been meaningless. But it was a small comfort. Every time he looked at her… Every time she laughed… Every sarcastic jibe…

He had forced himself to get over her, to stop thinking about her. And he succeeded, more or less. Slowly, over time, his pain subsided, and he started thinking about Kim again. And then he and Kim began dating, and he forced himself to remove any last remnant of Shego in his mind. He had done it for Kim, he had done for himself, for his sanity. And then things between him and Kim were going so smoothly – or so it seemed – and months, whole months had passed by since Ron had thought of Shego last. It had been months since he stammered like an idiot around her, months since he shirked away from her, months since he felt himself turn to jelly in her presence. He was even able to laugh at himself and how foolish he had been over Shego. But now… his world was crashing down on him, and the memories were all flooding back into his mind.

It wasn't fair! He had forced himself to walk the straight and narrow for Kim, had forced himself to stay clean, had forced himself to remain pure of mind and pure of heart. And he did it! He did for Kim! And all this time, she had been… No. No, it just wasn't possible. He wouldn't think about it. He couldn't – he'd go crazy. It was all just speculation. After all, it was like Barkin said – friends hugged, all the time. It was no big. He was just making mountains out of molehills, as usual.

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Shego frowned at her reflection in the mirror after Perlman stalked away. He was acting… weirder than usual, if that was at all possible. Something was up. He suspected. Or maybe… maybe he even knew…

Shego drummed her fingers nervously on the steering wheel. It was only a few minutes before the first scheduled break of the morning, but she never had much patience. Normally she would have just strode in and grabbed Kim herself, but she didn't think it would be a good idea to show her face before her suspension was over. David was likely to be in a snit over the show's cancellation, and she highly doubted that he would take very kindly to seeing her walk Kim out of the studio.

After a few more minutes, Shego noticed a figure exiting the studio. She perked up slightly, but realized right away that it couldn't be Kim.

It was Steve.

Shego felt a small twinge of guilt and nervousness as she realized that Steve was headed for his car, which was parked right next to hers. She forced herself to look natural.

"Hey," she smiled.

"Oh… Hi," Steve said, somewhat distractedly. He gave Shego a funny look. "Going somewhere?" He gave a small nod to the suitcases in the backseat.

"I'm flying up to Albany," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Visiting my… alma mater."

Steve frowned slightly. He was too polite to point out that Shego did not have many fond memories of her alma mater, nor did they have too many fond memories of her.

"And," Shego said, with a small smile, "while I'm there, I figured I'd… stop by the police station. It's a few years late but I think it's time… to report a crime."

Steve's eyes grew wide. He was no longer distracted. "You mean," he said in a low, awed, voice, "You mean… it's _done?"_

Shego smiled somewhat self-consciously. "That's right."

"Booyah!" Steve exclaimed, much to his and Shego's surprise. He impulsively leaned over the door of Shego's convertible and gave her a spontaneous hug. He stopped abruptly, and then pulled away, his face turning red.

"Um…" he stammered, trying to cover up his awkwardness, "How… how did you find him?"

"Actually," said Shego thoughtfully, "he found me."

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Interesting…" He jerked slightly. A light flashed in his eyes, and the pieces began fitting together…

He found Shego…

Shego just finished with him…

Ed ripping up his contract, warbling over some "wacked bitch…"

Everything clicked.

"Sweet mother of pearl," Steve said in a low voice.

"What?" Shego asked, perplexed.

"Nothing much," Steve said in a low voice. "Just that Ed Drakkenger quit the show this morning."

The momentary look shock and glee on Shego's face – which disappeared as soon as Shego managed to re-arrange her face to conceal her emotions – was all the confirmation that Steve needed.

"I thought so," Steve muttered.

"Don't do anything stupid," Shego said quickly.

"Like – you?"

"I don't have a leg full of shrapnel," Shego said impatiently.

Steve paled slightly. Shego backpedaled.

"Steve – I'm sorry, I didn't –"

"I forgot about the shrapnel," Steve said softly. "You reminded me." Steve hesitated. "So did Possible, actually."

Shego froze.

He knew. What was worse, he knew that she knew that he knew.

"Steve –" Shego began hurriedly.

Steve raised his hand. "There's no need to explain," he said. "Besides, we need to celebrate this moment… You've been waiting for a long time and, well, I can't help but feeling that I had at least a _small _part in –"

"Steve, we're going to need to talk," Shego blurted out.

Steve shook his head. "No, we don't," he said.

"But Steve –"

"Shego," Steve said quietly, "between this parking lot and my house, there must be about five thousand bottles of beer, and there's only one thing that's keeping me away from buying one of them."

Shego fell silent.

"I should be home late tonight," she said quietly. "We can celebrate then."

Steve nodded. "I'm looking forward to that," he said gently. He then opened his car door and entered.

"Where are you going?"

Steve smiled tightly. "I have some… unfinished business."

Shego frowned. "Be careful."

Steve nodded, and briefly glanced at his bad leg.

"I always am," he said sadly.

----------------------------------------------------------

Kim jogged hurriedly out of her dressing room. She had wanted to see Shego for a few minutes during her break, and she was running late. As she quickly swerved around the corner, she suddenly skidded to a stop to avoid a head-on collision.

"Well, well, well," Joe said. He had apparently just stepped out of David's office. "Looks like we're both out of a job, eh, Kim?"

Kim nodded tightly, and turned away, without saying a word.

"Do you know why?" Joe called out after her.

Kim turned to face Joe in disbelief.

"Oh, come on," she said with irritation. "Don't give me that."

"I haven't been giving you _that _for weeks," Joe responded.

"One-track mind," Kim muttered under her breath. "You probably know better than anyone else why the show's getting cancelled."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me," Kim snapped. "Thanks to the rumors that you started, a whole studio of people are losing their jobs." _Of course, _Kim thought, _it also helped her and Shego get together… _

Joe frowned. "Which rumor are you talking about?"

"Well, let's see," Kim said sarcastically. "How many rumors have you started?"

Joe shrugged. "A couple," he said nonchalantly. "But I can't think of any that would be bad enough to get the show cancelled. I mean, the one about the Mammomax couldn't…"

"YOU were the one who started the rumor about me and the boob cream?!" Kim shouted in disbelief.

"Duh," Joe said unapologetically. "But that wouldn't have –"

"Oh, quit playing games with me," Kim said sharply. "You planted those pictures and I know it."

"What pictures?" Joe asked earnestly.

Kim narrowed her eyes at him.

"What?" Joe asked defensively.

"Do you expect me to believe," Kim asked doubtfully, "that you have no idea what pictures I'm talking about?"

"Kim," Joe said, more seriously than he had ever spoken to her before, "why would I create images that would put the show's future in jeopardy? If the show tanks, I'm out of a job."

Kim paused. That was actually a good point.

"I turned down three jobs in the past month," Joe continued. "Would I have done that if I had suspected that the show was going to fold?"

Kim's eyes grew wide. "But… but… but you were so angry at me and Shego, and you –"

Joe rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I was mad," he said impatiently. "For like twenty minutes. I know when I have something coming to me."

"But you were giving us the cold shoulder ever since!" Kim blurted out. "You've been avoiding us like the plague!"

"Most perverts don't need to have their asses kicked more than once, Kim," Joe pointed out, shrugging.

Kim put her hands to her temples. This was getting far more complicated than she had anticipated… She had never even considered that someone other than Joe had created those photoshop images of her and Shego…

"But if you didn't create those images," Kim mused aloud, "then who did?"

"If you let me see them," Joe said eagerly, "I could analyze them and try to figure that out for you."

"Yeah right," Kim said coldly. "You really are a perv."

Joe shrugged.

"Look," he said, "I gotta beat it. But my advice? If you really want to figure out who's behind the photos, start by thinking of who wants the show cancelled."

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Author's note: Please answer my poll! You can find it on my profile page - just click my username on the screen. ;)

Thanks!


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